


Resistance

by diagonfloo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 70,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diagonfloo/pseuds/diagonfloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has fled England and built himself a life in the south of France. Unfortunately, his peaceful life is about to be turned upside down by an unwanted delivery…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An unwanted delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for all the kudo's on my stories so far! Very much appreciated :)  
> I'll keep editing my older stories before posting them on this site.

Harry strolled down the stretched-out narrow path between the lines of vines in almost perfect contentment. The grapes were already visible, though still tiny and green. They’d been busy trimming the leaves yesterday, allowing the grapes to get plenty of the sunlight they craved. This early in the morning, the sun only just awake, the estate breathed the promise of a beautiful early summer’s day.

 Harry had never regretted the whim that had led him to buy this rundown vineyard in the hills of the Provence. Five years after Voldemort’s defeat, Harry’d been sure of only one thing. He needed to get away, leave England behind. Never having been anywhere before, Harry hadn’t known where to go. Unwilling to attract the attention his departure would certainly have caused, he’d decided against wizard transport and got on the Muggle Eurostar instead.

 It hadn’t been easy at first. For one thing, there was the language issue. Harry didn’t speak a word of French, unless you counted “oui”, “non” and “voulez vous couchez avec moi”. Harry didn’t. Parisians, although often fluent in English, tended to be reluctant to speak it. They preferred Harry to struggle with the complex French grammar and make a bloody fool of himself. In those early days he’d thank Merlin for the translating spell his Auror training had taught him, although it was tricky to use in Muggle areas.

 After two months in Paris, he’d fallen in love with the French capital. He’d enrolled in a Muggle language course and surprised himself by picking up the French language rather quickly. Hermione would have definitely been proud. Deciding that there must be more to France than Paris alone, Harry said his goodbyes to the city and started his journey across the country. That journey had landed him right here, on the vineyard he’d called his home for almost six years now.  

 Harry loved it here. Not just the vineyard, but the whole area. He loved the softly flowing hills, the golden sunlight, the charming little towns, the scent and sight of the extensive lavender fields… But most of all he loved the life on a vineyard. It was run by a mixture of Muggles and Wizards, some of whom had become friends over the years. Their wine was quite successful, very popular with the local restaurants.

‘You’re up early today Monsieur Potter’

Harry turned and smiled at the young French wizard who that had walked up to him from the house unnoticed.

‘Good morning Stéphane. Yes, I wanted to see the sun rise above the fields this morning’ Harry answered.

Stéphane answered his smile, but something seemed to cloud his usually gentle eyes.

‘What’s wrong? Tell me right now’ Harry demanded. His eyes had immediately sought out the long rows of vines, searching for anything on the delicate plants that could cause a problem.

Stéphane hesitated, looking awkward.

‘I’m not sure Monsieur. I think it’s best if you come with me’.

Wordlessly, he followed Stéphane through the fields, through the house, to the front door of the estate. Stéphane opened the double doors and stepped back.

* * *

 

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. Right in front of him, under a Muggle Repelling Glamour, it was unmistakably Draco Malfoy lying in a heap of limbs on his front step. Ten years and the miserable state of his broken body could not disguise the aristocratic Malfoy features. His naked skin bore numerous scars, bruises and scabs in various states of healing. He was covered in dirt and smears of dried blood, looking deathly pale underneath. Harry would have thought he was dead in fact, if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest. On his bony shoulder, an envelope was pinned addressed to “Harry Potter”. Cold dread trickled down Harry’s spine. He would worry about the implications of his name on the envelope later. Right now, he had other priorities.

‘Stéphane, fire call Mediwizard Chevalier at once. Then send word to all the Muggle workers that they have the day off due to a family emergency. I’m taking Monsieur Malfoy here to the guest room on the first floor. Come and join me when you’re done’.

Without waiting for a reply, Harry pocketed the envelope and cast a feather-light charm on Malfoy’s body. He floated the limp body up the stairs, careful to not let it bump into anything. _Him_ , Harry corrected himself. _Careful to not let anything bump into_ him.

 Stepping into the guestroom, Harry was pleased to see it was as immaculate as always. He gently lowered Malfoy’s body onto the large four poster bed, covering his naked form with a soft blanket. Harry backed away from the bed. Malfoy looked so… fragile. Not only was he covered in injuries and probably some nasty curses, his body was also no more than skin and bones. Malfoy had always been very slender, his shapes angular. But now he was so thin, you could actually count his bones, clearly visible underneath the almost translucently pale skin. Harry hesitated. Mediwizard Chevalier might be a while yet, should he try and do something for Malfoy now? No, Harry decided. Whatever he tried, it may do Malfoy more harm than good in his current state. It was clear that the blond wizard was out cold, and Harry privately thought that a blessing. At least Malfoy didn’t seem to be in any discomfort right now, apparently he couldn’t feel the effects of his injuries.

 ‘Kreacher’ Harry called.

The old house elf appeared with a pop. Living and working at the estate had done the house elf a world of good. He looked years younger, spotless and as always dressed in a snow white, crisply starched tea towel.

‘Yes Master Harry?’ the elf said eagerly.

‘Kreacher, do you remember who this is?’ Harry enquired, indicating the bed.

The elf’s eyes popped wide in shock as he saw Malfoy’s bruised face contrast sharply with the white linen pillowcase underneath.

‘That is being Mister Draco Malfoy Sir’ Kreacher exclaimed, wringing his little hands in dismay. ‘Mister Malfoy is needing a Mediwizard Kreacher thinks’.

‘Don’t worry Kreacher, Stéphane is taking care of that as we speak. I expect Mediwizard Chevalier will be here any minute now’ Harry confirmed. ‘I need you to stay here and look after Mister Malfoy for me Kreacher, can you do that?’

‘Of course Kreacher can be doing that Sir. Anything Master Harry wants Kreacher can be doing!’ the house elf proclaimed, puffing out his tiny chest with pride.

‘Good. Call me the minute anything changes in Mister Malfoy’s condition. Also call me when Mediwizard Chevalier gets here. I’ll be in my bedroom. Do you understand?’ Harry asked.

‘Yes Master Harry, Kreacher is understanding’ Kreacher confirmed importantly.

Harry gave the house elf a satisfied nod and departed the room quickly.

* * *

 

 Harry’s body shook as he heaved above the toilet one more time. He’d emptied his stomach about a minute ago, so there was nothing left to come out. Stubbornly, his body kept trying to heave up the horrors it felt creeping up on it, but to no avail. The threat came from the outside, from Draco Malfoy to be exact… Well, Harry amended, not from Malfoy himself probably, since he didn’t look like he’d be able to eat, drink or go to the bathroom unassisted, let alone challenge Harry. The threat came from whoever dumped Malfoy on his doorstep in the first place.

 Waiting for the dry heaves to subside, Harry rested his head on the toilet seat. This was what he’d been trying to get away from. The darkness, the awfulness, the hopelessness… He’d been safe here and happy enough. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? The image of a broken Malfoy flashed before his eyes and Harry felt a pang of guilt. What was he complaining about anyway? Malfoy obviously hadn’t come here voluntarily. In fact, given a choice, Harry was pretty sure the blond would have preferred anywhere but here, anyone but him… Except for the people who left him here to begin with... Whatever else, Harry could at least make sure they wouldn’t hurt Malfoy again. Sure, as a boy he’d been a stuck up, snooty little git, but no one, _no one_ , deserved something like this.

 Harry had no idea what had happened to Malfoy in the last couple of years. Harry had testified at both Draco’s and his mother’s trials reluctantly. He didn’t want to get involved, but he felt he owed the two that much at least. It was up to the Wizengamot to decide on their punishment. He remembered Draco being sentenced to two years in Azkaban, his mother for six months. The news had meant nothing to him. He’d been too absorbed in his Auror training to spare much thought for the Malfoys’ fates.

 Harry scrambled up from the bathroom floor and headed over to the sink to wash his face and mouth. Time to pull himself together. Whether he liked it or not, it seemed trouble had managed to find him once again. He supposed he should be grateful for the almost six years of relative peace he’d been enjoying up to now. But he wasn’t. No matter how irrational, he resented Malfoy just for being here. He resented the people who were responsible for Malfoy being here. Most of all, he resented them for reminding him of what he’d been hiding for in the first place.

 ‘Monsieur Potter?’

Harry heard Stéphane’s polite voice coming from outside his bathroom door.

‘Yes Stéphane? Has something else happened?’ he asked, as he answered the door.

‘Non Monsieur. Mediwizard Chevalier will be here in five minutes. I’ve called all the Muggle employees and told them to stay home for the day. Luc came over just after you went upstairs. I’ve told him what happened. He’s standing guard at the door, ready to send away anyone who might still turn up’ Stéphane explained, handing Harry a cup of tea. Harry accepted the tea gratefully and took a careful sip.

‘Thank you. Any idea who’s behind this?’ Harry inquired.

Stéphane looked puzzled.

‘Non Monsieur. Was that not in the note they left?’

Note? Right… Harry had almost forgotten about the envelope. He quickly fished it out of his jeans pocket.

‘Yes of course. Could you please take Luc’s place and send him up here? I need to speak to him urgently’.

The young wizard nodded his consent and retreated, leaving Harry on his own. Harry drank the rest of the tea in one quick gulp and ripped open the envelope impatiently.  

  _Dear Mister Potter,_

  _We present you with what is left of Draco Malfoy. We fear it is not much. Our leader had planned on finishing him off, but we decided that that pleasure should go to you._

  _We regret that you felt it necessary to leave our native Britain behind. We do however understand that it must hold many unpleasant memories for you, a lot of them associated with Mister Malfoy here. Please feel free to do with him as you wish._

  _Perhaps you’ve heard of the efforts our little group has gone through to make Britain a safe and pleasant home for the Muggle born wizard? We’d be extremely honoured if you decided to join our ranks._

  _Rest assured, we will keep on fighting the good fight regardless!_

  _Sincerely,_

  _The Bald Eagle Society_

 Harry only just managed to reach the bathroom in time before emptying his stomach yet again.


	2. A Malfoy's dignity

‘And you’re absolutely sure of this?’ Harry asked again.

Mediwizard Chevalier smiled kindly, being used to worried interrogations by a patient’s family and friends.

‘I assure you that I am’ he acknowledged. ‘Monsieur Malfoy has suffered severe injuries. His wrist, several fingers and one of his legs are broken. He has a few fractured ribs, he’s dehydrated, malnourished and has lost a lot of blood. Two of his teeth have broken off, there’s been some internal bleeding and his lungs have been damaged. Besides that, he has several superficial injuries, mostly cuts and bruises. He’s unconscious, has been for at least three hours I’d say. I believe this to be caused by a blow to the head, the one that left that huge bump over there’. He paused to point at Malfoy’s left temple. Then he concluded: ‘The damage that was done to Monsieur Malfoy is extensive, but I repeat, none of it is caused by magic’.

Harry shook his head in bewilderment.

‘So what now? What can you do for him? Should he go into hospital?’ Harry asked.

‘I’m afraid we can’t do much for him at “l’Hôpital Sorciers”, seeing as the injuries are all non-magical. You could take him to the Muggle hospital I suppose…’ Mediwizard Chevalier suggested hesitantly.

Harry couldn’t help but snort. The idea of putting Malfoy in a Muggle hospital… Malfoy would probably die before he’d contemplate such a thing.

‘Is there nothing you can do for him Mediwizard Chevalier?’ Harry implored.

‘I assure you that I have done what I can Monsieur Potter. I’ve repaired the internal damage as best I could. It would be preferable if Monsieur Malfoy was not moved at this point. He will need to take various potions once he’s awake. I have some with me now and could owl you the rest later today’ Mediwizard Chevalier explained.

Harry closed his eyes and groaned. Have Malfoy stay here? With him?

‘Harry? Is that alright with you?’

It was Luc’s kind voice that broke his silent contemplation. Harry smiled at his employee and friend gratefully.

‘He’s pretty harmless while he’s still out, isn’t he? Can’t say I’m looking forward to having to deal with Malfoy once he’s woken up though’. Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes. ‘But I can hardly turn him out on the streets while he’s like this… So yes, I suppose he can stay. For now’.

The Mediwizard smiled kindly.

‘Good. Then I think it’s about time we awaken Monsieur Malfoy’ he decided. ‘I must caution you however; Monsieur Malfoy will be in quite a bit of pain I’m afraid. I have potions to dull that pain of course, but he must be awake first before he can drink them. Considering the extensive trauma and… what he’s been through, it might be necessary to hold him down while I administer the potions. Are you willing to help me with that Messieurs?’

Both Harry and Luc nodded their consent and stepped in close, ready to hold Malfoy’s limbs down if needed.

Harry wasn’t looking forward to this part one bit. He could just imagine Malfoy’s reaction at waking up and finding himself pinned down to a bed by Harry Potter of all people… Judging by the grim expression on Mediwizard Chevalier’s face, he was apprehensive as well. His wand was steady however as he cast the spell: ‘Enervate!’

Malfoy did not respond in any way. His eyes remained closed, his body immobile. Only the barely visible stiffening of every muscle in Malfoy’s body betrayed the effects of the enervating spell. Like a cat unexpectedly trapped in a narrow corner, Malfoy seemed to try and asses his situation before acting. For that to work however, he would have to open his eyes to take in his surroundings. A tiny flutter of his eyelashes alerted Harry to Malfoy sneaking a peek between almost fully lidded eyes. Harry wanted to say something, anything that would make this easier on the blond, but he didn’t know what to say. Malfoy’s body clamped up in shock as his eyes flew fully open and locked on Harry’s. His mouth opened to let out an unearthly high-pitched scream that made forceful shivers run up and down Harry’s spine. Malfoy’s limbs flayed about helplessly around him. Harry cringed as he realised that the wizard didn’t seem to respond to the pain that the movements of the broken bones most certainly must be causing him. Luc had stepped in already and Harry followed his example, firmly pinning an arm and a leg down while Luc took care of the other. He winced at the thought of causing Malfoy even more pain, but the blond wizard’s movements stilled at the first contact as his whole body had gone rigid. Harry looked up into Malfoy’s eyes. The bright grey eyes were spread wide, the look of pure terror in them causing Harry’s throat to constrict.

‘It’s alright Monsieur Malfoy’ Mediwizard Chevalier started in a soothing medical voice. ‘You’re safe now. We apologise for restraining you. This must be ever so unsettling for you… I have several potions here for you to drink that will help your recovery and ease your pain. Will you take them for us please?’

Malfoy’s eyes had flicked over to Mediwizard Chevalier as soon as he started speaking. Harry could tell Malfoy was having trouble comprehending the words and the sudden change in his situation. Harry had no idea how long “The Bald Eagle” society had kept Malfoy prisoner, but judging from his reaction it must have been for quite some time. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of intense sympathy for his former nemesis.

Malfoy swallowed and tried to speak. It took him several tries to actually form words.

‘If what you say is true, then unhand me at once’ Malfoy finally spoke. Harry knew he would have been annoyed to hear the familiar tone of Malfoy arrogance and superiority back in Hogwarts, but now he felt quite impressed. The naked fear was still clear in the stormy grey eyes, but Malfoy held his head high and spoke clearly. Harry released the blond wizard gently and stepped back, pleased to see that Luc had done the same.

The look of astonishment at being obeyed might have been comical in other circumstances. Again Harry silently admired the blond wizard as he gingerly pulled himself together and sat up with a dignity defying his current state of wounded nakedness. Malfoy studiously ignored both Luc and Harry and focussed his attention on the Mediwizard instead.

‘Tell me more about these potions’ Malfoy ordered.

The Mediwizard gave a little bow in acknowledgement.

‘Certainly Monsieur Malfoy. For now, there’s some Skele-Gro obviously, a Blood-Replenishing Potion, a Pain-Relieving potion and a new potion I’ve developed that will help reduce the bruising. I’d also recommend taking a Calming Draught’.

Malfoy tensed.

‘No. No Calming Draught’ he said adamantly. ‘And let me see the other potions before I take them’.

Mediwizard Chevalier gave another courteous bow and handed the vials to Malfoy. Malfoy hesitated, looking at his own hands. The left one was useless with the broken wrist, so he carefully took it with his right hand, even though both his ring finger and little finger were broken. He eyed the vials suspiciously, reminding Harry of the skill at potions he showed in Snape’s class all those years ago. Malfoy uncorked the first vial, the Skele-Gro, and sniffed it delicately. Evidently deciding it to be genuine and not some sort of poison, he set the vial to his lips and gulped it down. Remembering the vile taste, Harry commiserated with him as the blond wizard tried and failed to repress a shudder of repulsion. The other potions were thus examined and taken without any further comment.

After finishing the last one, Malfoy looked around him disdainfully and proclaimed regally: ‘I need my rest now. Please leave’.

Whatever had been done to Malfoy, they obviously hadn’t managed to break the man’s spirit. Cocking an eyebrow, Malfoy glared at them meaningfully.

‘We’ll leave you to get some sleep then’ Harry said, backing away from the bed.

‘Very well’ Mediwizard Chevalier agreed. ‘I shall owl you some more potions as soon as I get back to l’Hopital. Monsieur Potter will keep me informed on your progress, I’m sure’.

Harry nodded his agreement. Malfoy had already curled himself up into a ball and closed his eyes. Harry smiled wryly as he looked at the blond one more time before closing the guest room door behind him.

* * *

 

 

‘Now… Why don’t you tell me some more about this Malfoy of yours?’ Luc enquired.

Harry sighed and sipped at his tea.

‘There’s not much to tell really’ he said.

Luc, who had been one of his closest friends for the last three years looked at him with scepticism.

‘I highly doubt that’ he replied. ‘Monsieur Malfoy seems quite… interesting. And there’s obviously some sort of history between the two of you’.

His friend looked at him with his much-too-wise eyes.

‘It’s just… I don’t like to talk about… what happened… before’ Harry admitted hesitantly.

‘I had noticed that, yes’ Luc acknowledged dryly. ‘You seem to want to forget about your past. It however, does not seem to want to forget about you’.

‘Malfoy… I don’t know, I guess we were childhood rivals, taking the rivalry between our respective School Houses a tad too seriously. He was just an annoying little git really. Managed to get on my nerves well and truly. His family… well, let’s just say they made some unfortunate decisions at the time. He did as well’ Harry explained.

‘Does he have anything to do with why you left England?’ Luc asked quietly.

Harry stiffened. Never before had his friend tried to broach the subject of him coming to France. His first impulse was to get angry, lash out, walk away… Unable to remain still, Harry got up and started pacing the room. Malfoy had inadvertently brought back the past which Harry had wanted to leave behind. He would just have to deal with it, Harry decided, squaring his shoulders.

‘Not directly, no’ Harry finally answered. Then he hesitated. ‘Luc, how much do you know of what happened in England before I left?’

‘Only what I’ve read in the papers over here. Which wasn’t much. There was some dark wizard with a weird name that was very dangerous apparently. As I understood it, you vanquished him. And there was some sort of prophesy about that wasn’t there?’ Luc asked uncertainly.

‘Yes. His name was Voldemort, although most people never called him by that name. He wanted to rule the wizarding world, hated all Muggles, Muggleborns and Half Bloods, even though he was one himself. He wasn’t big on technicalities like that’ Harry snorted.

Harry sat back down thoughtfully and faced his friend.

‘After that, after the war, I don’t know… I guess I thought things would be different…’ Harry paused, before continuing bitterly: ‘I thought we could all make a fresh start. Make amends. Get along’.

Harry laughed with self-loathing as he remembered his own childish, pitifully hopeful expectations.

‘But that’s not what happened?’ Luc prodded gently.

‘Not even close. I found out quickly enough that there is prejudice and hate all over the wizarding world. It isn’t restricted to a few of the ancient pure-blooded families as I once ignorantly thought’ Harry admitted.

‘At first, I didn’t notice. I was blind. I believed people when they said it was “for the best” to start restricting the rights of certain pureblood families. It was “for their own protection” to put them under house arrest, take their wands or freeze their assets for a while. Otherwise, some of the Muggleborns might take it upon themselves to take revenge on them and who knew what lengths they would go to?’

Harry was lost in thought, stirring his tea endlessly even though the cup was near empty and the tea long cold.

‘But then they started to find excuses for extending the house arrest again and again. I found out that sums of money, taken from these families, was spent on things like “Muggle born schooling” and “War payments”. They called it “making reparations”. I assumed the wands had been returned long ago, but then I heard one of my fellow Aurors brag about how he had been ordered to snap them all one night’.

Harry looked up to see his friend look back at him intensely.

‘Did you know I was an Auror as well?’ he asked.

Luc shook his head.

‘I thought being an Auror meant helping people, solving crimes, catching dark wizards, that kind of thing’. Harry laughed bitterly. ‘You know what I spent most my time doing? “Investigating” pureblood families. We got anonymous tips all the time, of some pureblood wizard harbouring some cursed object or other. I turned houses upside down looking for dark stuff, even though I knew that everything they might have once had would have been impounded by the ministry years ago. “Just a precaution” everyone kept saying’.

Harry sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders.

‘I tried to say something, tried to protest’ he assured Luc. ‘But they wouldn’t listen. None of them would. Only some of my friends did, but they couldn’t do anything either. In the end, I just gave up’ he admitted softly. ‘I couldn’t take it anymore. So I left’.

‘And what about Monsieur Malfoy?’ Luc asked. ‘What happened to him?’

Harry shrugged his shoulders defensively.

‘I don’t know. When I left, Malfoy’s parents were both still in Azkaban, “for their own security” of course, and Malfoy was still under house arrest. I’ve never heard of this “Bald Eagle Society”. Things must have got worse since I left… I’ve got a subscription to the “Daily Prophet” to keep up with the news somewhat, but they’ve never been the most reliable source of information’ Harry sneered. ‘Ill have to owl Hermione, she’ll know what’s been going on’.

Luc smiled.

‘It would be lovely to see Mademoiselle Granger again. It’s been a while’.

Harry nodded. Yes, owl Hermione. That’s what he would do. Glad to have some sort of purpose, he swiftly walked over to his makeshift office to gather some parchment and a quill.


	3. Do what you can

Harry let out a frustrated growl and thumped his head repeatedly on the table. Pathetic. He’d been right not to do more than skim the Daily Prophet for the last couple of months. The information it offered was clearly useless. Harry looked at the scattered issues spread out haphazardly around him. He had asked Kreacher to gather up all the issues from the years since he’d left England, before sending the elf back to watch over Malfoy. He’d used the handy little spell Hermione had taught him back at Hogwarts that would find any article that mentioned the name “Malfoy”.

They were surprisingly scarce. Harry remembered the time that Lucius having a bad hair day would have been enough reason for an in-depth article on Malfoy genetics. He could find no feature articles about the Malfoys at all, only a casual mention or two like: “Narcissa Malfoy was one of the prisoners to be moved to a new wing of St. Mungo’s, created especially for the treatment of pureblood families”. The article went on to explain how the purebloods felt “more comfortable” when among “their own kind”. It also stated that it had the added benefit of “improving the feeling of security” of the other patients since they now did not have to deal with “unpleasant memories” of the war. The way the paper managed to put a “positive spin” on all the measures taken against the purebloods made Harry feel sick.

The only two articles that mentioned Draco by name were dated around six months ago. The first stated that Malfoy had been released from house arrest. Harry was shocked to realise that meant Malfoy would have been under house arrest for almost ten years! Harry couldn’t help but notice the article in the Property section of the same paper, stating that Malfoy Manor had been bought by the Campbell family. Somehow, he doubted the two events were unrelated. The second article made a mention of the mysterious disappearance of Malfoy only two days after his release from house arrest (aka his being booted out of his own home so they could sell it out from under him). It said that the Aurors were “puzzled” by the disappearance, but “unfortunately” didn’t have enough clues to be able to start up a formal investigation. Sure.

The information Harry found on “The Bald Eagle Society” was if possible even more worthless. Oh, it was mentioned quite a lot, especially in the issues of the last two years. But all the articles were about “the good work” the society apparently did. It spoke of founding homeless shelters, organising courses in Muggle culture and setting up projects for work experience for young wizards. Harry wasn’t surprised to find that they had also been one of the instigators and co-founders of the special “Pureblood Wing” at St. Mungo’s. The members of the society were kept pretty hush hush, but they had plenty of endorsements of famous wizards and war heroes. One of the names that popped out at Harry was Dean Thomas. He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, wondering if his old school friend had any idea of the other activities the society engaged in.

Harry looked up expectantly as he heard the tiny pop that announced the entrance of Kreacher.

‘Is he awake Kreacher?’

‘Yes Master Harry. Young Mister Malfoy is being awake and is ordering me to get “bloody Potter”. I is assuming he is meaning you Sir’ the house elf explained, tugging at his ears nervously.

Harry snorted.

‘You assume right Kreacher. I’ll go and see him now. Can you put together a light but nutritious meal for him please? I suspect His Highness might be rather hungry,’ Harry said while making his way toward the stairs.

‘Of course Master Harry Sir. Kreacher is being delighted!’ the house elf enthused, already ticking off the dishes he was planning on his long fingers.

Harry opened the guest room door to find Malfoy sitting up regally, the sheets tucked up high under his armpits.

‘Potter. About time,’ Malfoy huffed.

Harry sighed. Admirable or not, the man’s haughtiness did get a tad annoying at times.

‘I came as soon as I heard you were up Malfoy’. Harry hesitated. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Just peachy Potter. And as you can see, I’m actually _not_ up. Is this how you plan to detain me Potter? Keep me naked at all times? Or is that just one of your rather amusing little kinks?’ Malfoy sneered.

Harry blushed furiously, both in anger at the accusation and in embarrassment that he didn’t foresee how vulnerable Malfoy must feel being stuck here without any clothes. Reminding himself of the ordeal his former rival had been through, Harry stomped down his annoyance and tried to show some more patience.

‘I’m sorry, I should have realised… There’s a bathrobe in the bathroom, I’ll get it for you. I’ll run a bath while I’m in there shall I? I’m sure you’d like to clean up a bit,’ Harry offered.

‘Thank you so much for reminding me of my dishevelled state. Your compliments are like balm to my ego, I assure you,’ Malfoy replied tightly.

Merlin but the man was touchy... Seeing as Malfoy managed to take offence to whatever Harry said, Harry decided it was best to not say anything at all. He wordlessly walked in to the bathroom and turned on the taps of the large tub. He added a mixture of pleasantly scented bath salts and soothing foam to the quickly rising hot water before grabbing the thick robe and heading back to the bedroom.

Malfoy hadn’t moved an inch.

‘Here you go,’ Harry mumbled as he handed him the robe.

Malfoy took it and then stared at Harry pointedly until the dark haired wizard turned around with a sigh to give Malfoy his privacy.

‘You can turn back round now,’ Malfoy announced and then hesitated. ‘I believe I’ll take that bath after all, but…’

He didn’t need to continue. Malfoy was obviously loathe to ask for help, but there was no way he could make his own way to the bathtub. Harry walked up to the bed and held out his arm for support. The blond struggled his way to the edge of the bed, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. He dangled his feet and gingerly put them down, testing if they would support his weight. The right one seemed to hold up fine, but the left one gave away immediately. Harry pretended not to notice and hoisted the man up without ceremony.

Getting to the bathroom was a bit of an ordeal. Harry could hear the repressed sounds of pain escaping Malfoy’s pursed lips. Again he pretended not to notice, rightly assuming that that would be what Malfoy preferred him to do.

Once in the bathroom, Malfoy took in his surroundings with a critical eye.

‘Hmm…’ he judged, ‘I suppose this is adequate’.

Harry suppressed a smile and turned his head away so Malfoy could undress. He heard the robe slip on the floor and helped the blond into the tub without looking.

‘Yes, yes, that’ll do Potter,’ Malfoy snapped as soon as he was safely submerged. ‘Now let me be. And I don’t need any help scrubbing my back either’.

Harry heaved a heavy sigh. He seemed to be doing that a lot around Malfoy.

‘Fine. I’ll go see if I have some clothes that’ll fit you for now. I’ll be back in about thirty minutes to help you out of the tub again, is that alright?’

‘Certainly,’ Malfoy said gracefully.

Harry turned on his heels and quickly departed. Almost making his escape, Malfoy’s voice stopped him on the threshold: ‘Oi Potter! Make it 45 minutes!’

The shout was followed by a huge, blissful sigh that made Harry grin widely. Bloody Malfoy…

 

* * *

 

‘No. No. Ugh Potter, what were you thinking? Er… no way!’

The look of disdain on Malfoy’s face as he went through the clothes Harry selected for him was priceless. Harry wasn’t about to tell him that he had added a few of the old ratty robes he only used out on the fields now, just to see the blond’s reaction. Harry hid his grin as best he could, but not good enough it would seem.

‘What are you smirking about stupid?’ Malfoy bristled.

‘Nothing!’ Harry was quick to respond. ‘Sorry you don’t like my clothes Malfoy. How about this one though?’

Harry held up the soft black robes with intricate lavender embroidery he knew would get Malfoy’s attention.

‘Hmmm… They’ll do I suppose. Hand them over,’ he ordered, holding his hand out commandingly.

Harry gave him the robes with an innocent smile that made Malfoy eye him up suspiciously.

‘Well? What are you waiting for you big oaf? Conjure me a decent mirror while I change,’ Malfoy huffed pompously.

‘Sure Malfoy. Whatever you say…’ Harry mumbled, turning round to _Accio_ the mirror from his own bedroom over. He had to use all of his concentration, making sure the mirror didn’t bump into something and smash to a million pieces.

‘Well?’ Harry asked while Malfoy stared into the mirror with an odd look on his face.

‘They’re fine,’ Malfoy judged, noticeably subdued.

Harry felt confused. The way Malfoy was fingering the fabric reverently, he knew the robes must be to his tastes. It was only after Harry saw the way Malfoy flinched when he turned the mirror a bit to look at himself in profile that Harry understood. He could hit himself in the head for his stupidity! This must be the first time in ages that Malfoy was confronted with his own image. Of course he would be upset by the visible injuries and the general gauntness of his look. Wordlessly he vanished the mirror. As he looked at Malfoy, he thought he could almost see a look of gratitude in his eyes.

Malfoy cleared his throat and let his mask slip back into place.

‘Right. I seem to remember a number of potions that would be sent to me? Are you keeping them from me on purpose Potter? Do you like to keep me crippled and in pain?’ Malfoy complained.

Harry counted to ten before answering this time.

‘I thought you might prefer to eat something first,’ Harry suggested.

Malfoy opened his mouth to respond but was chastised by the loud growling coming from his stomach. Malfoy closed his mouth with dignity.

‘Well… Yes, that would be good,’ he admitted.

‘Kreacher,’ Harry summoned. The elf appeared at once with a tray stacked high with all kinds of delicious foods. Harry rushed over to help Malfoy in the chair next to the bed while Kreacher floated over a table and placed the food from the tray on it. He laid out the fancy linen napkins and the delicate bone china dishes Harry noticed with amusement. He was sure Malfoy would appreciate the gesture.

Malfoy carefully placed the napkin in his lap and eyed the food greedily. He seemed particularly tempted by the different kinds of French pastries. Harry couldn’t blame him, Kreacher had mastered the art of pastry to perfection, making them so light they would almost melt on your tongue.

Malfoy reached out to grab a croissant and the butter dish, but his trembling hand could not support its weight.

Harry sat down opposite him and picked it up.

‘Here, let me,’ he offered quietly.

Malfoy nodded quietly, obviously too hungry to refuse the help. Harry smeared a generous amount of butter and fig jam on the croissant and handed it to the eager blond who devoured it instantly.

The next twenty minutes were spent in silence with Malfoy pointing out what he wanted to eat next and Harry preparing it for him. Kreacher kept the tea and fresh orange juice coming while Harry picked out the juiciest strawberries, scooped bits of runny cheese on bread and helped Malfoy to several pains au chocolat. Harry had never seen anyone eat with so much relish. Malfoy was lost in the process, sniffing the food appreciatively before putting it in his mouth and making delicious sounds of enjoyment while chewing and swallowing.

When Malfoy finally pushed his plate away and stretched luxuriously, Harry said: ‘I think you should take your potions now and then get some more sleep’.

‘Whatever Potter’, was Malfoy’s vague reply.

He checked every potion, the same way as he had before, but he seemed to need less time to establish that they were indeed safe. He refused to take anything like a Calming Draught or a Dreamless Sleep Potion, but the others he took without complaint. As Malfoy could scarcely stifle the yawns in between taking the potions, he offered no further objections when Harry helped him back into the bed. His eyes drooped as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he still found the strength to say: ‘Now get me some pyjamas Potter. Malfoys are not accustomed to sleeping in the nude, whatever your barbaric habits may be’.

Harry shook his head in amusement as Malfoy’s soft snores accompanied him on his way out. 


	4. Of old friends and new

‘Mademoiselle Granger! Lovely to see you again’.

Luc beamed as he bowed his head and elegantly kissed her hand. Hermione blushed prettily.

‘Thank you Luc. Now how many times must I ask you to call me by my first name before you actually do it?’ she asked sternly.

‘You may ask as often as you like Mademoiselle, but it will never be enough,’ Luc replied, as he had done so many times before.

Hermione laughed and turned to greet Harry, enfolding him in a tight hug.

‘Harry… I’m so glad to see you. It’s been too long,’ she said softly.

Harry gave her a little squeeze and a peck on the cheek before stepping out of the embrace and hooking his arm in hers.

‘You’re right Hermione, it has been too long. Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again,’ Harry stated, walking them out to the terrace.

It had been a beautiful, warm spring day. The workers had gone for the day. Kreacher had set up the table on the terrace so they could enjoy the last of the sunshine while drinking a glass of wine before dinner.

They sat down, drank their wine and caught up with the latest news in each other’s lives. Hermione talked about her job at the ministry. She’d been the assistant to the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation for years now. For some reason, she hadn’t been promoted in ages, but seeing as the head of the department was a lazy good-for-nothing slacker, he was quite content to leave all the work up to Hermione. Come to think of it, that might be the explanation for Hermione’s lack of advancement… The good thing about her job though, was that she would be in France quite often. It made it easy and convenient for her to visit Harry, though it had been at least four months since her last visit. Luc had taken to her straight away. They always flirted with each other shamelessly, which might have worried Harry if it wasn’t for Luc’s long-term boyfriend Alain. And Ron and the kids of course…

‘So… How’s Ron?’ Harry asked semi-casually.

At once, there was a little tension in the air.

‘He’s fine. He says hi,’ Hermione answered quietly and then quickly went back to talking about little Hugo and Rose.

Although Harry had remained firm friends with Hermione over the years, his friendship with Ron had cooled down considerably. It all started the moment Harry broke up with his sister Ginny. Ron had taken his sister’s side, feeling the understandable need to protect and comfort her. Whenever Harry and Ron saw each other, Ron would either bombard Harry with heavy accusations or ignore him completely.

As always, Ron had come to his senses in the end, apologised to Harry and tried to make up for his abandonment. Harry’d accepted his friend’s apology, and been friendly and polite. But Ron had disappointed him one time too many.

At first, Ron hadn’t noticed the difference. He’d try and have a laugh with Harry, like they used to. He’d try and talk to him about the trouble he had getting through the Auror training program. He’d complain about Hermione nagging him, trying to find some sympathy. Harry had just smiled, listened and nodded along. At some point, Ron had taken the hint.

Ron had become quieter, subdued even. Harry would still go and visit with Ron and Hermione and the visits were pleasant enough. But whenever Harry felt sad, angered or troubled about something, he’d keep it to himself. The truth of it was, he wasn’t prepared to trust Ron the way he once would have.

During the years that followed, they had drifted further and further apart. Now that Harry was living abroad, they hardly ever got to see or talk to each other. Harry was fine with that. He was glad to still have Hermione’s friendship, and he’d made a new friend in Luc.

Harry told Hermione about life at the estate, about the new sparkling wine they wanted to add to their range and the Muggle novel he’d been reading. Luc entertained with stories about Alain’s temper tantrums, the new house they’d bought and the mischief Kiki (their adorable little Toy Spaniel) had a habit of getting into. Hermione gushed about Rose’s early reading, bragged about Hugo’s skill in solving complex problems and gave them details about her meeting with the French Minister of Magic this morning. All in all, they had a lovely time. They stayed outside until the sun set in beautiful red tones over the fields.

The minute they were finished with dinner, Hermione got to business.

‘So… tell me why you needed to see me. Is everything alright?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine. It’s Malfoy,’ Harry explained.

‘Malfoy?’ Hermione asked incredulously. ‘I didn’t know what to expect, but Malfoy? Never in a million years would I have guessed it would have something to do with him…’

‘He was quite literally dropped on my doorstep a couple of days ago. He was…’ Harry hesitated.

‘He was in a bad state when we found him’ Luc took over. ‘He’d obviously been through hell, been held captive, deprived of food and water. And he’d been tortured. Badly’.

Hermione gasped.

‘I wondered what had happened to him…’ she whispered.

‘You knew about his disappearance?’ Harry asked.

‘I did,’ she confirmed. ‘I know he was annoying as hell back in Hogwards, but the way he was kicked out of his own home like that was despicable’.

Hermione grimaced with distaste. Harry felt a hum of excitement go through him. Yes, he’d been right to go to Hermione. She was a keen observer and always kept on top of the news. If anyone knew what had happened to Malfoy and why, it would be her.

‘What do you know of The Bald Eagle Society?’ Harry asked.

‘Are they involved in this?’ Hermione enquired sharply.

Harry nodded and handed her the letter that had come with Malfoy’s unconscious body. She read it quickly, then went back and carefully re-read it at least four more times. When she looked up, her eyes were burning.

‘I knew it,’ she hissed. ‘I knew they were dangerous and capable of horrible things. _The end justifies the means_ , that’s one of their mottos you know’.

Luc quirked an eyebrow.

‘What?’ he asked.

‘It’s a Muggle saying,’ Harry started to explain, but Hermione interrupted him.

‘Well no, the correct Muggle phrase would be that the end _does not_ justify the means’ she corrected him. ‘It means that you can’t do just anything, like hurt someone or steal something, to achieve a goal that in itself is good. The fact that the end result is good, does not make it ok for you to do bad things to achieve it’.

‘But the Bald Eagle Society has other ideas…’ Luc deduced.

‘Exactly,’ Hermione acknowledged. ‘I knew they couldn’t be trusted no matter how many wizards raved about them. But until now, they haven’t shown their hand’.

Hermione gave a grim smile that made Harry’s skin break out in goose bumps.

‘I have a feeling they will live to regret that mistake,’ Luc concluded dryly.

‘They will indeed,’ Hermione promised. ‘I have another meeting with the Minister in the morning and can stay until Sunday afternoon, so we’ll have a bit of time to decide on a course of action’.

Harry said nothing, listening to Hermione and Luc discuss possible actions instead. He felt like something was suffocating him. He felt paralysed. He’d always felt safe here, and although the unexpected arrival of Malfoy had disrupted his life somewhat, he’d still basically been alright. He’d take care of Malfoy, give him a place and the means to recuperate, but he wouldn’t get _involved_. This wasn’t his fight, not any more. Was it? But then he pictured Malfoy, looking so tiny and vulnerable as he lay unconscious on his doorstep. He imagined what horrors the wizard must have suffered. He thought of what else the Bald Eagle Society was capable of, if they’d been capable of this…

Could he really ignore this? Could he persist in keeping his distance? Harry’s thoughts were racing through his brain. He didn’t know what to do. He would have to think about it. Sometime. But not right now. Right now, he needed to get away and find some sort of distraction. Harry stood up abruptly and made his excuses to his friends and retired to his bedroom for the night.

 

* * *

 

Harry hesitated, contemplating the plain wooden box in his hand once again. Should he disturb Draco? It was ten PM, so he probably wasn’t asleep yet…

Draco’s progress went slow but steady. He wasn’t confined to his bed anymore, but his mobility was still so much restricted that he wasn’t up to wandering through the house yet. Instead of asking or accepting help, Malfoy had opted to stick to his rooms.

Making a decision, Harry knocked on the guest room door softly. If Malfoy was asleep, chances were that he wouldn’t hear it anyway.

‘Enter’.

Harry rolled his eyes. Malfoy would insist on acting like Lord of the Manor at all times. He pushed the door open and walked in. Malfoy was sitting in the comfy armchair by the window, reading one of the books Harry had brought up for him from the library. He looked a lot better than he had a couple of days ago. The bruises had faded to near invisible and his limbs no longer dangled awkwardly now that the broken bones had been healed. He was still very thin, but his pale skin had gained some more colour, giving him a healthier look.  He looked up as Harry entered the room.

‘Potter? What is it?’ he asked.

Harry dragged a second chair over to the window and sat down.

‘You’re looking better,’ Harry started, trying to be friendly.

Malfoy seemed to startle which confused Harry. How could he take offence to such an innocent statement? It was meant to be a compliment for fuck’s sake!

‘Well… Looks can be deceiving I suppose. Although it would help if you got rid of those hideous spectacles and got some new ones that might actually work,’ Malfoy sneered. Then he noticed the box. ‘What’s that?’

‘Hermione’s visiting for a couple of days. I asked her to take this out of my Gringotts safe and bring it over,’ Harry explained.

‘Granger?’ Malfoy asked sharply. ‘You told her? About me I mean?’

‘Don’t worry. She’s my friend, she won’t say anything. You’re still safe here. And she doesn’t even know what’s in the box,’ Harry assured him.

Malfoy looked panicked. Harry knew he would have to talk to Malfoy soon, find out everything Malfoy knew about the wizards that had held him prisoner. Harry hadn’t wanted to bring it up before Malfoy had recovered enough from his injuries. First, he needed to learn to feel safe again, feel strong again.

‘Why was she here?’ Malfoy asked at last.

‘Because I invited her. As I said, she’s my friend. And I… needed her help,’ Harry concluded. He decided that he wouldn’t reveal that the help he needed from Hermione had everything to do with the blond wizard sitting before him right now.

Malfoy gave him a look that made it very clear that he wasn’t an idiot and knew exactly what Harry needed Hermione’s help for. But he said nothing. Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

‘So what’s in the box Potter? Got a whip in there to bully me back into shape so you’ll have the place to yourself again?’ Malfoy inquired haughtily.

‘No, I…’ Harry hesitated. ‘This is for you. Just open it’.

Harry quickly thrust the box in Malfoy’s hands. The blond just sat there and looked at it. Harry ran his hand through his hair anxiously.

‘Go ahead and open it. I unlocked it for you earlier,’ Harry insisted.

Malfoy gave Harry a thoughtful look before finally opening the box. He almost dropped it as he saw the hawthorn wand lying on the dark red velvet. He managed to grab the box just before it slipped, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip.

‘It’s yours. I didn’t know what to do with it after the war. You weren’t allowed to have a wand, so I couldn’t return it to you. I put it in Gringotts for safekeeping. I’d forgotten about it to be honest. But when you showed up here, I remembered. I think it’s high time you have it back, don’t you?’

Harry groaned inwardly. He was babbling. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t as if he’d kept the wand from Malfoy deliberately.

‘Malfoy? Are you alright?’ Harry asked, concerned about Malfoy’s sudden paleness and ragged breathing.

Malfoy didn’t seem to hear him. He reached out a cautious hand and lifted the wand from the box. He held it close to his face and looked at it from every angle. He stroked the wood affectionately with his finger before letting it slip into a comfortable grip. Then he waved the wand a bit, making a stream of white sparks burst out of the tip. Malfoy choked and clasped a hand over his mouth. Harry looked at him in concern as his complexion went from deathly pale to bright red in seconds.

‘Kreacher!’ he called in alarm. As soon as the house elf appeared, he continued: ‘Get Mister Malfoy a glass of water’.

Kreacher’s ears quivered as he glanced at the wizard in distress, and he popped out and back in with the water immediately. Malfoy took a few grateful sips and fought valiantly to get his breathing under control. Harry was about to try thumping the wizard on the back, when Malfoy looked up at him. Harry recoiled in shock as he saw Malfoy’s blotchy face, tears streaming freely over his burning cheeks. Harry looked around frantically, not sure what the hell he was supposed to do now. Luckily Kreacher kept his wits about him and floated a box of tissues over from the nightstand. Malfoy took one without looking and dabbed at his eyes. He even blew his nose, something Harry would have sworn a Malfoy would never ever do in company.

‘Thank you,’ Malfoy said, his words simple but sincere. ‘I don’t know… You have no idea… Just… Thank you…’ And then he smiled.

 


	5. Malfoy's tale

‘I believe my presence has been requested at breakfast’.

Harry turned to see Malfoy standing on the kitchen doorstep. Both the look in Malfoy’s eyes and the tone of his voice had a decidedly frosty quality to it. The nervous twitch in his wand hand told a different story, one that made Harry feel a pang of pity for the blond wizard.

‘Good morning Malfoy,’ Harry said, ‘Thank you for coming down’.

‘Potter. Granger,’ Malfoy acknowledged.

‘Good morning Malfoy,’ Hermione said in a friendly tone, adding a little smile for good measure.

Malfoy just looked down his nose at her before stepping forward and sitting down silently.

They ate breakfast together with a minimum of conversation. Harry hid a smile as he watched Malfoy use his wand for the simplest of tasks. He used it to hover over the pastries he selected, to pour coffee, to cut an omelette… Basically, he used it for anything and everything. His eyes shone in a way that warmed Harry’s heart. Malfoy looked like Harry had never seen him look before. This was not the cold, snarling Malfoy he knew back in Hogwarts, nor the crippled but strong Malfoy he’d seen the last couple of days. The man before him now seemed like a mixture of those two personalities, but more. He looked to have more depth, more warmth, but was still reserved enough to pique Harry’s interest. This Malfoy was _interesting_ , someone he’d like to get to know better, perhaps even become friends with. Harry knew the haughtiness was still there and would annoy him to no end at times, but he also recognised it for what it was. A shield. A façade to hide behind. A convenient mask to be used for keeping a safe distance and for covering up any and all vulnerabilities.

As Kreacher cleared the table, Harry suggested they move to the terrace and sit outside for a bit. It being Sunday, the workers weren’t coming in so they’d have their privacy. That privacy was important, since Hermione and he had decided that today would be the day they spoke to Malfoy. They were going to ask him what he knew, what had happened to him. Harry wasn’t sure Malfoy would be up to talking about it, but he felt they couldn’t delay any longer. The determined look in Hermione’s eyes alerted him to the fact that she was about to start asking questions. But Malfoy beat her to it, startling her with his speech.

‘So, Granger, does that husband of yours know about your little clandestine meetings with Potter here? Do you do this regularly I wonder? Leave the Weasel to look after the offspring while you go off gallivanting around what I assume must be the south of France?’

Malfoy smirked as he watched Hermione’s jaw drop and continued: ‘I must admit,  I wouldn’t have thought it of you, good little Gryffindor that you are. I read all that “War Hero” nonsense you know. The Daily Prophet drew quite the idyllic picture, my my, if they could only see you now…’ An ugly sneer appeared on his face. ‘But then again, the Daily Prophet has never been known for caring about the truth now have they? As long as they can print a good story that will sell some more newspapers, they’re happy’. He almost spat out those last words.

Hermione had regained her composure enough to respond. She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if deciding what would be the best course of action. Harry thought he knew what her reservations were. She was annoyed about Malfoy making assumptions, but she recognised his tactic to use attack as a defence. Malfoy must be aware that they were about to question him and the thought obviously made him nervous.

‘Ron knows I’m with Harry. My _friend_ Harry, nothing more,’ Hermione stated finally. Then she looked at Malfoy expectantly, as if she was sure he had more to say.

‘Well, I suppose I have no choice but to take your _word_ for it,’ Malfoy sneered. ‘You’ve seemed to have changed your morals and values quite a bit though, letting that poor house elf serve on you hand and foot. Weren’t you the president and only member of the “Help End the Wickedness of the Poor House Elf’s Slavery” or some such nonsense? I didn’t see you saying no when he offered you another one of those apricot pastries though,’ Malfoy proclaimed.

Hermione wasn’t as easily rattled this time. She made her reply calmly.

‘I was indeed. I still care about the welfare of all magical creatures and that includes house elves. I’ve even insisted that Harry offer to free Kreacher’.

‘Oh I bet he loved that!’ Malfoy crowed.

‘He er…’, Hermione shifted uncomfortably, ‘wasn’t interested. He proceeded to avoid me for a couple of weeks after that, but now we’re fine’.

For a moment, it looked like Malfoy was going to make some more accusations. But then he seemed to reconsider and swallow his words.

After a moment of silence, Harry cleared his throat. This wasn’t going to get any easier, so he might as well jump in, head first.

‘Malfoy… Will you tell us what happened to you?’ he asked.

Malfoy had obviously expected the question. His face looked expressionless on the surface, but the stormy grey eyes betrayed Malfoy’s hidden turmoil. He didn’t look at Harry or Hermione as he began to speak.

‘They said I was going to be under house arrest for two years. Truth be told, I thought I’d got off easily. But it was much harder than I thought it would be. I was so… lonely. Both my parents were in Azkaban and they confiscated all of the house elves. None of my former friends would speak to me, because they feared what would happen to them if they were linked to the Malfoy name in any way. I wasn’t allowed to send out owls, and all the floo connections had been closed’.

Malfoy stood up and restlessly paced up the winding lane that led into the fields. His face was set in a hard expression and he gripped his wand tightly. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance before quickly following him. It took a while for Malfoy to start speaking again.

‘When the two years were over, I waited for my release forms to come. But they didn’t. Every week, when the ministry owls came to deliver the food rations, toiletries and that week’s issues of the Daily Prophet, I hoped they would carry the forms. But they never came. I tried to send a message with the owls, back to the ministry, but the owls wouldn’t let me’.

Malfoy traced a trembling hand through his blond locks and continued: ‘I felt so alone, but at least I was home, surrounded by all my familiar things. I had the library to keep me occupied, the gardens to maintain. I think the books and the living plants and animals on the grounds are what kept me sane you know…’ he mused quietly.

As Malfoy talked on, he turned onto side paths, choosing random patterns to walk across the vineyard’s extensive fields, his chaotic path betraying his restlessness.  He still limped a bit and had to stop and rest at every other corner, but Harry was still pleased to see his movements had improved immensely.

‘And then, suddenly, as I’d lost hope it ever would, my release papers came. They were hand delivered by some insignificant ministry flunky who gloated as he handed them over’. Malfoy’s tone turned bitter. ‘I didn’t understand why he was gloating at first. But then he gave me the second envelope. It stated that Malfoy Mansion had been claimed as payment for the evil deeds my father performed during the war’.

Harry wanted to say something to make this easier for Malfoy. The blond’s eyes were suspiciously bright and he gripped his wand tightly as if ready for an attack. Harry could see the same impulse to sooth Malfoy’s emotions in Hermione’s eyes as they shared a look. But what could they possibly say that would make any of this better? Nothing, that’s what. So they held their tongues and waited for Malfoy to continue.

‘I went from being ecstatic that I would finally be able to leave the house, to devastated that I would never be able to return in a matter of minutes’. Malfoy’s voice was low and quiet now. Even though Malfoy’s face was impassive, his voice betrayed his pain at losing his childhood home. He closed his eyes and let out a trembling sigh.

‘They gave me an hour to pack up a few of my personal belongings and a small trunk to store them in. I was not to take more than would fit into the trunk. And without my wand to shrink items, that wasn’t much’.

Lost in thought, Malfoy caressed the length of his wand. Ever since Harry had given it back to him, it had been in his hand. Harry suspected he might have put a sticking charm on it, so determined was he to never lose the precious item again. Harry couldn’t blame him. He had been brought up as a Muggle, and though he would hate every minute of it, he could live like one again if he had to. But for a pureblood like Malfoy? To lose your wand, to be forced to live as a Muggle, must seem like a fate worse than death.

They turned another corner and walked in the direction of the house again. Harry, noticing Malfoy’s slowed pace, the painful twitches of his face and his general pallor, decided this was the moment to intervene. Malfoy obviously needed a rest, but was never going to admit that. Harry also suspected it would be best for all of them if they sat down for the next part of Malfoy’s tale. Malfoy himself looked in danger for his knees to buckle from underneath him. Making his decision, Harry took the lead and walked back up to the terrace, trusting the others to follow him. As Harry sat down and called for Kreacher to bring them out some tea, he was pleased to see both Hermione and Malfoy sit down with him.

Harry thought it was good to have something to occupy their hands. As the anticipation rose, they calmed themselves by pouring tea, adding sugar and milk. Biscuits were carefully selected and nibbled on. There was blowing on the tea to cool it, followed by careful sips and of course the incessant stirring. Again Harry tried to think up ways to make this easier on Malfoy and again he came up with nothing.

‘I might as well not have bothered to pack anything. As soon as I stepped out of the gates, I was taken’.

Malfoy’s voice was low and quiet as he elaborated, his eyes a dull grey.

‘I didn’t see them. I felt a hand on my arm and then the pull like the one of a Portkey. I remember a flash of light, a sharp blow to the head and then nothing but darkness for I don’t know how long. When I became aware again, I was in some sort of tiny dark cell. It had no windows, the air was humid, the smell putrid’. Malfoy’s face distorted in disgust at the memory. ‘It had nothing but an old, dirty mattress with a rough blanket thrown into a corner. And a bucket. For, well…’

‘Do you have any idea where they kept you?’ Hermione asked quietly.

Malfoy shook his head.

‘No. My time there passed as in a blur. I don’t even know how long they kept me. All I did was simply exist. Whenever I thought I wouldn’t last another minute without food or water, they would give me some. Whenever I thought the beating, the kicking, the torture would grow so violent that I might perish, they stopped and threw me back in my cell,’ Malfoy said in a voice that sounded distant, obviously reliving some of the horrors he’d been through recently.

Harry shivered. He had known what kind of things Malfoy must have suffered through to be in the state he was currently in. But to actually hear it described to him in that distant tone of voice, had quite an impact. A quick glance over at Hermione told him it was the same for her. She swallowed and looked back at him helplessly.

‘Did they tell you anything?’ Harry asked.

Again Malfoy shook his head.

‘No. They spat on me, called me names, swore, cursed my family, but that was it. They’d leave me to rot in my cell for days on end. When they were around me, they wore some sort of glamour on both their appearance and their voices’.

Harry didn’t want to ask anything more. He wanted to stop putting Malfoy through this, stop making Hermione and himself listen to it. But stopping now, would mean revisiting the tale at a later stage. Harry didn’t think he could do that to Malfoy. The man was obviously doing the best he could to hang in there, get through this. Again Harry was amazed by Malfoy’s inner strength. He had been through so much and talking about it obviously pained him. But still he powered through. Well, if he could do it, than so could Harry.

‘Was there anyone else held prisoner where you were?’ Harry inquired.

‘I don’t think so, at least not that I could tell. I never saw or heard anyone except for my captors,’ Malfoy answered.

‘How many different captors did you see?’ Hermione asked.

‘There were two I saw on a regular bases and about three more that I saw only occasionally. That were the ones charged with keeping me prisoner of course. I’m sure there were more,’ Malfoy said. He seemed a little bit more at ease now. These questions were probably somewhat easier for him to answer, a bit less personal and invasive.

‘What makes you say that?’ Hermione asked, intrigued.

‘They didn’t talk to me, but they did talk to each other,’ Malfoy explained. ‘I couldn’t hear them, but it was clear they were debating what to do, and waited for orders from someone else’.

Hermione nodded. This was obviously making some sort of sense to her. Harry wished he could say the same.

‘Malfoy…’ he began hesitantly, looking at Hermione for support. She nodded in understanding and took over.

‘Harry found you on his doorstep about a week ago. You were out cold and left under a Muggle Repelling glamour. They left a note,’ Hermione explained.

Malfoy looked up with a start, but before he could demand to see this note, Harry handed it over to him. With trembling fingers, Malfoy opened the parchment and read the short message with burning eyes before folding it closed again with precise movements.

‘The Bald Eagle Society…’ he pondered absently. ‘I think I’ve heard that name before…’

Hermione proceeded to explain to him the little they had been able to find out so far. Malfoy listened with rapped attention, soaking up every word. When she had finished he gave her a stiff smile.

‘Thank you,’ he said quietly.

Hermione startled.

‘Oh. Er… You’re welcome,’ she responded, obviously flustered.

Malfoy turned his head to confront Harry.

‘They left me here for you to “do with me as you wish”. Care to enlighten me on that subject?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes.

‘What?’ Harry exclaimed with a constricted voice. ‘No, I mean, I don’t know! Nothing! I had nothing to do with this!’

Malfoy raised an eyebrow sardonically.

‘Nothing to do with this?’ He gestured to the folded parchment with his head. ‘I don’t know Potter, sounds like you’re their little hero to me’.

Harry shook his head violently.

‘No, I want nothing to do with this. This is not my war, not my fight. This is not my responsibility,’ he said through gritted teeth.

Malfoy observed him critically. He seemed to consider something and took a while before he spoke again.

‘Do you agree that the way purebloods have been treated after the war is harsh and unjust?’ Malfoy enquired.

‘Well yes, but…,’ Harry started.

‘Would you say the system has been corrupted and many people are being hurt?’ Malfoy continued.

‘Of course! I just…’ Harry tried.

‘Do you think that this Bald Eagle Society is evil and needs to be stopped?’ Malfoy went on relentlessly.

Harry hung his head in defeat.

‘Yes,’ he acknowledged, ‘But why does it always have to be _me_? Why do _I_ have to be the one to put up resistance, to stand up and fight?’

Harry knew how pathetic he sounded, he did, but he couldn’t help himself. Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he done what everyone expected him to do when he faced Voldemort and died to save the world? Couldn’t it be someone else’s turn now?

When Malfoy didn’t answer, Harry looked up. That was apparently what Malfoy had been waiting for.

‘When you see that people are suffering, isn’t it everybody’s job to put up a fight? Try to make a change? Stand up for what they believe in?’

Malfoy looked at him with an amused sort of disbelieve.

‘I never thought the day would come that _I_ would have to explain such things to a _Gryffindor_. Why should _you_ resist? Why should _you_ fight? Why should _you_ speak up?  It’s simple really. Because everyone should. There’s only one difference between you and the rest of us. They might actually listen to _you_ ’.

 


	6. Property reclaimed

_‘There’s only one difference between you and the rest of us. They might actually listen to_ you _’._

Malfoy’s words echoed through Harry’s head long after Harry excused himself and fled to his private rooms. His eyes firmly closed, his fists tightly clasped, the tension in his body felt almost unbearable. Only when he took a huge gasping breath and started panting for air, did he realise he’d been holding his breath the entire time. He opened his eyes to see his reflection staring back at him with miserable eyes.

 _Well. Here we are again_ , Harry thought. He examined his image critically. A decade later, yet not much had changed. Still the unruly black hair, the piercing green eyes… Yes, his glasses were different and the tiny creases around his eyes and mouth were new. Harry cocked his head to get a different angle. No, all in all, he was still the same man that left England behind years ago. The same man that had managed to defeat a Dark Wizard while he was still a child. The same man that had made a life for himself here in France. _A good life_ , Harry told himself.

A soft knock on the bathroom door startled him. He opened the door to see Hermione standing there. She looked both nervous and determined, a combination that instantly had Harry on edge. He walked over to the sofa and flopped down, indicating for Hermione to come join him.

‘Harry…’ she started.

Harry stared off to the side stubbornly. If she had something to say, she’d best say it and be done with it.

‘Look, can we talk about this?’ Hermione asked tentatively.

‘What for?’ Harry shot back. ‘I already know what you’re going to say’.

‘You do?’ Hermione asked uncertainly.

Harry turned his head to glare at her accusingly.

‘You agree with him, don’t you’.

It was not a question. The look of guilt in Hermione’s eyes was all the confirmation he needed. But still she tried to deny it.

‘No! I mean, not exactly. Or not entirely at any rate,’ she tried to explain.

Harry just raised his eyebrows sceptically and waited.

‘You don’t understand Harry. Things have changed since you left. They have!’ she insisted, probably in response to Harry’s derisive snort.

‘Changed? Don’t make me laugh Hermione! I still subscribe to the Daily Prophet you know. I know what goes on!’ Harry spat.

Hermione shook her head furiously.

‘That rag is not worth the parchment it’s printed on. Things _are_ changing, I swear it. If you would just…’

But Harry interrupted her before she could go on.

‘Are Muggleborns still favoured and Purebloods discriminated against?’ he asked in a cold voice.

‘Yes, but…’

‘Are people like the ones in that “Bald Eagle Society” still allowed to go around unchecked?’ Harry continued.

Instead of trying to speak, Hermione just nodded.

‘Is Scrimgeour still minister of magic?’ Not waiting for Hermione’s nod to confirm his suspicions, he continued: ‘Then as far as I can see, nothing has changed’.

When no response came, he eyed Hermione up suspiciously. The weary expression she wore did not surprise him in the slightest. What _did_ surprise him, was the tiny smile that had formed on her lips.

‘What?’ he couldn’t help but snap.

Hermione smiled fully now.

‘Nothing. You and Malfoy have similar tactics, that’s all,’ she explained.

Harry glared at her some more. Hermione did try to hide her amusement, but wasn’t very successful at it. After a while though, her expression grew more serious.

‘You _do_ realise why you’re protesting against this so vehemently don’t you?’ she asked quietly.

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed.

‘Yes,’ he said, so softly it was barely audible. He’d known it from the moment Malfoy started his little speech. Or perhaps even from the moment he decided to keep Malfoy here at the estate, trying to restore him to his former strength. Harry was in this. No matter how much a part of him was screaming at him to run away and hide, the larger part of him was already resigned to what would come. He would go back to England. He still didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do to make things better, but he _would_ try.

Hermione hadn’t spoken again. The silence between them had been one between good friends, full of understanding and without any awkwardness. Harry knew Hermione wished he didn’t have to do this. He understood that she wished his interference would be unnecessary. But she was enough of a realist to know that something needed to be done and that Harry would be of vital importance if they were to have any chance of success. Harry waited for the wave of nausea to hit him, but it never did. It seemed even his stomach had accepted the inevitable.

It was Harry that broke the silence.

‘So… Do we have a plan?’ he asked.

‘Nothing definite yet. I’ll have to do some more investigating,’ Hermione said.

‘But?’ Harry prodded her to go on.

Hermione gave him a wry smile.

‘I do know where to start. There have been… stirrings. I wasn’t lying when I told you things were changing Harry. On the one hand, you might say that things have got worse. What happened to Malfoy is clear proof of that. On the other hand, that’s what has made some people more… uneasy’ she said carefully.

‘Go on,’ Harry encouraged her.

Hermione observed him thoughtfully.

‘There have been others like you, you know. Not everyone’s been blind to what’s been going on. And then there are people who saw nothing wrong with the measures against Purebloods right after the war, but have changed their minds when these measures became more invasive and repressive,’ Hermione explained.

Harry blinked. He hadn’t been aware of that. Of course the Daily Prophet hadn’t breathed a word of this, but why should he believe anything that was printed in that piece of trash anyway? Even though he knew Rita Skeeter had resigned about six months after the war, the quality of the newspaper hadn’t improved one bit after her departure.

‘Will you reach out to them?’ Harry asked finally.

‘I will,’ Hermione confirmed. She hesitated. ‘I think I’ll need about two weeks to set up some sort of secure meeting. Will you… will you be able to join us by that time?’

Harry smiled at her reassuringly.

‘I will,’ he said. ‘And I know just the place for it too’.

After that, they said their goodbyes and Hermione left for the international floo connection. Harry was surprised to feel hungry, even though it was nearly dinner time. He had expected to feel the familiar nausea and a paralysing fear. But if they were there, they were only a faint sensation somewhere in the back of his mind. They had been repressed by a steely calm and a solemn resignation. He _had_ to do this. And he would. He didn’t know what was going to happen, and that thought _did_ scare him, but not so far as to incapacitate him. Even though he had no worked out plans, he knew he had good instincts. Those instincts had helped him survive life at the Dursleys’, had led him to defeat Voldemort and had told him when to flee England. He would follow those instincts one more time. Harry smiled viciously. He had a feeling he was going to enjoy this bit.

 

* * *

 

‘Thank you for coming with me,’ Harry said, anxiously squeezing Luc’s hand, perhaps a bit tighter than necessary.

Luc squeezed his hand back in reassurance.

‘Of course Harry, I’m happy to help, you know that’.

Harry smiled at him gratefully.

‘Alright. Let’s do this,’ Harry said firmly, tightly clasping his fists to stop his hands from trembling. One more deep breath and they walked up to the enormous mansion looming up in front of them. When they reached the outer wards at the gates Harry leant on them gently, announcing their presence.

The gates opened immediately and they where ushered in by a servant that was dressed like a Muggle maid. She led them through to a large room. The room was decorated in an expensive yet tasteless fashion, the combination of colours and different patterns almost hurtful to the eyes. None the less, Harry put on a fake, toothy smile and held out a hand to the plump man sitting in his throne-like chair.

‘Mister Campbell. Such a pleasure to meet you after I’ve heard so much about you,’ Harry exclaimed, pumping the man’s hand up and down with enthusiasm.

Campbell puffed up his chest in pleasure and beamed. Oh yes, Harry had the measure of this man and knew just how to handle people like him. He and Luc sat down in the offered chairs. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes as he noticed that their seats were quite a bit lower than Campbell’s.

‘Harry Potter as I live and breathe,’ Campbell proclaimed. ‘You must call me Greg though. Is it alright if I call you Harry?’

Harry gave his most enigmatic smile.

‘Of course Greg, of course,’ he agreed. ‘This is Luc Martin, my business advisor’.

Campbell gave Luc a perfunctory smile, shook his hand and turned his attention back to Harry.

‘Now Harry, tell me what it is I can do for you,’ Campbell insisted importantly.

Luc and Harry exchanged a glance. Luc nodded subtly and took the lead.

‘Mister Potter is planning to buy some property in England. I’ve done some research, and found a property that would suit his needs perfectly. That is of course if you would be inclined to part with it,’ Luc explained.

Campbell looked back and forth between Harry and Luc with a puzzled expression that made him look quite foolish.

‘He’s talking about Campbell Mansion of course, the property formerly known as Malfoy Manor?’ Harry clarified.

‘Ah I see…’ Campbell pondered. ‘You know, I wouldn’t mind giving it up truth be told. When the property came on the market, I thought it a splendid joke that an old Muggleborn like me would be Lord and Master of Malfoy Manor. But sadly it has been a bit of a disappointment’.

Campbell gave them a look of regret.

Harry put on his most sympathetic face and asked: ‘It was? How so?’

Campbell sighed and splayed his hands out on his rotund belly thoughtfully.

‘Somehow, the house never seemed to accept me or my family. It was like the wards were set against us or something. It’s not that we were thrown out or anything, we were just made to feel very… unwelcome’. Campbell shrugged helplessly. ‘At first we felt ecstatic, exploring the house, the extensive grounds, that sort of thing. I even managed to reclaim every single one of the Malfoy house elves you know’.

Campbell looked at them smugly and Luc gave him an encouraging smile. Harry’s smile had frozen on his face by now and felt stiff and weird to him, but Campbell didn’t seem to notice anything strange about it.

‘It was just little things. Doors that would suddenly lock behind us and not open again. Furniture that was there one minute, gone the next. Wards that malfunctioned at random times and let everyone in unannounced. And the elves’. Campbell shook his head in distress. ‘They would seem to follow our orders but then wilfully misunderstand them. When we asked them to change the beds, they’d literally change all the beds into different objects, leaving us no place to sleep. When we asked for a simple steak for dinner, they’d serve it uncooked, claiming that our orders had been unclear. When we ordered them to clean up one of the rooms, they nodded solemnly and then vanished it all together’.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud. Luc, bless him, was nodding along with a look of compassion in his soft brown eyes. That was all the encouragement their host needed to continue his tale.

‘Some parts of the house remained locked to us the entire time, such as the Master Suite and the entire East Wing. All in all, it just wasn’t as good as I thought it was going to be,’ Campbell said, the disappointment in his voice clearly audible. ‘We moved out after only three weeks. Still, I quite like owning the place I must admit. The thought of what Malfoy senior would have to say about it is quite entertaining’. Campbell smirked with glee.

‘That must be a happy thought indeed,’ Harry agreed. He lowered his voice conspiratorially and continued: ‘Now, just imagine the look on his face if he found out that Harry Potter was the new owner of his precious Manor. Good, isn’t it?’

Harry smirked devilishly as Campbell’s eyes began to shine. But then a thought seemed to cross the man’s head and Campbell’s face fell.

‘What about the trouble I just told you about though?’ Campbell asked worriedly.

Knowing what had to be done, didn’t mean you had to like it. _Do it for Draco_ , Harry thought. Draco? When had Malfoy become Draco? Harry shook the confusing thoughts out of his head. He had no time for this. Not now. He looked up at their host with what he hoped was a mysterious expression. Then he pushed his fringe away from his forehead, exposing the famous scar.

‘Don’t you worry about that Greg. I have my ways,’ he assured Campbell.

Campbell’s face broke out in an inane grin.

‘In that case, you have yourself a deal’.

 


	7. Mixed emotions

‘You did WHAT?!’

Harry blinked his eyes several times at the force of the question and swallowed. Whatever reaction he had been expecting, _this_ had not been it.

‘Er… I got you Malfoy Manor back?’ Harry repeated tentatively.

Harry couldn’t have looked away even if he’d wanted to. He watched in fascination as Malfoy turned from a deathly pale white to a bright red and then some sort of puce colour in a matter of seconds. Malfoy looked like he wanted to say more, but he seemed to be choking on his words, producing not much more than a splutter of syllables. Harry would be worried about him suffocating if he hadn’t seen Malfoy’s chest heaving with deep breaths. Harry had a nagging feeling that he should be worried, _really worried_ , about the blazing fire in Malfoy’s silver-grey eyes. His hand went to his wand subconsciously. He pressed it lightly through the folds of his robe, taking comfort in the familiar feeling of the springy wood. Malfoy didn’t look as if he was about to start throwing curses at him though. _Yet_ , Harry added after some consideration.

‘You… you…’ Malfoy started. Then he let out a growl of frustration and started to pace across the room in an agitated manner.

‘Look,’ Harry tried reasonably, ‘I don’t know what you’re so upset about? Didn’t you _want_ the Manor back? I don’t understand!’

Malfoy swung his head back in Harry’s direction with a speed that startled him.

‘Did I _ask_ you to do that? Did I?!’ Malfoy spat at him.

Harry bit his bottom lip and thought about it for a minute.

‘Well… no? I guess not, no…’ he said lamely.

That only seemed to infuriate Malfoy more.

‘That’s right, I did NOT! What, am I your little pet-project now?’ Malfoy sneered. ‘Some sort of charity case that invokes your “Saviour” reflexes?’

That was when Harry started to get annoyed.

‘Excuse me, but wasn’t it _you_ that told me I had to stand up and fight for what I think is right? Wasn’t it _you_ that told me that that was my _duty_. Weren’t _you_ the one who said they would only listen to me? Ha!’ Harry retorted.

Malfoy went very quiet then. Eerily quiet. Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up and a trickle of electricity wash down his spine. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Malfoy _this_ angry.

‘What I told you,’ Malfoy said in quiet and precise words, ‘is that you were no different than the rest of us. How in the _world_ your teeny tiny brain could interpret that as “get poor Malfoy his house back” I will never comprehend’.

Malfoy turned on his heels and stalked out of the room. Before Harry knew what he was doing, he had followed the blond into the hallway, grabbed his arm and spun him round.

‘Wait! Alright, perhaps I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry yeah? But come on Malfoy, at least you have the Manor back now. That’s a good thing isn’t it?’ Harry added hopefully.

Harry wasn’t prepared for Malfoy’s reaction. The furious blond grabbed Harry by the front of his robes and shoved him, hard. Harry let out an oompf as his back hit the wall with force. Still holding on to his robes, Malfoy had moved with him, standing so close now that their faces were only inches apart. His grey eyes had turned thunderous. Harry gasped as the force of Malfoy’s glare hit him.

‘Shut the fuck up Potter!’ Malfoy snapped. ‘You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, that much is obvious. I am not yours to save! Find yourself some other pathetic little lost cause and leave me the fuck alone!’

‘Oh yeah?!’ Harry snapped back, rapidly losing control of his temper. ‘Funny, I don’t remember you refusing my help when I picked you up and dusted you off after you were dumped on my doorstep. You think I asked for that did you?!’

Malfoy’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed.

‘Well excuse me for inconveniencing the bloody “Boy-who-lived”. Interrupt an all important day of silent brooding did I?’ Malfoy retorted icily.

‘Don’t be ridiculous Malfoy, you know that isn’t what I meant! I was just saying…’ Harry exclaimed with exasperation.

‘Ridiculous?’ Malfoy interrupted with a hiss of indignation. ‘I’m ridiculous now am I? What, is that _instead_ of being a pathetic charity case or as well as?’

Harry winced, but he wasn’t about to back down now.

‘Stop deliberately trying to twist my words you git! I apologised for hurting your stupid pride or something, but how about you just get over yourself already and bloody well let it go! Last time I do you a favour, that’s for sure…’ Harry shot back.

Malfoy untangled one of his hands from Harry’s robes to slam it flat against the wall besides Harry’s head. Harry flinched and ducked his head in reflex.

‘That’s it, isn’t it?’ the blond said, his voice heavy with contempt. ‘You expected me to be _grateful_ didn’t you? You thought I’d fall to my knees and sob my little heart out because the mighty Harry Potter condescended to help poor little old me. Ha!’

‘Well yeah, actually I did!’ Harry shouted, fully angry now. ‘You were tossed out of your home and I got it back for you. I might have expected a little gratitude. Stupid of me really, it is _you_ we’re talking about here. Should have known that massive ego of yours makes you incapable of saying a simple “thank you”. You might choke on the words!’

A mixture of emotions flicked over Draco’s face in quick succession. _Malfoy_ , Harry was quick to correct himself, it was _Malfoy’s_ face. There was anger, frustration and a lot of confusing emotions that Harry had trouble deciphering. He became uncomfortably aware of exactly how close Dra- _Malfoy_ was. He couldn’t look into the man’s eyes without his own eyes almost crossing and their noses were so close they were nearly touching. Only after Harry gulped his breath to inhale some much needed oxygen did he realise he’d been holding his breath. The fight had got Harry’s blood pumping. He could almost hear the thumping of his heart and found himself wondering if Malfoy’s heart was beating as furiously. Without thinking about it, he splayed a hand over the left side of Malfoy’s chest and waited. Harry’s eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly as he felt the steady heartbeat first skip a beat and then speed up noticeably.

Malfoy choked and Harry looked up, retracting his hand guiltily. Draco- _oh fine, Draco it is than_ , Harry thought irritably, Draco looked at him without blinking. His eyes had a pained expression that left Harry feeling confused.

‘Draco…’ Harry started.

Malfoy moved back from him as if slapped. He turned his back on Harry and bowed his head. Harry clasped a hand over his mouth as he realised that he just called Draco by his first name. He contemplated trying to take it back, but decided that that would probably only make things worse. _Besides, I don’t want to_. Harry jolted at that thought. He seriously didn’t understand himself sometimes. Why did it matter so much if he called Draco by his first name or last anyway? He didn’t know why. But he knew that it mattered. And not just to him apparently. Harry eyed Draco warily.

‘Are you alright?’ Harry asked softly after a long moment of silence.

Draco shrugged, hesitated, and then nodded. Harry didn’t think the blond was going to speak again, so he pushed himself off the wall and took a step back into the large living room. The sound of Draco’s voice halted him.

‘It should have been me,’ Draco said finally, sounding defeated.

‘What?’ Harry enquired, feeling confused. Draco did that a lot lately, confuse him, Harry thought absent-mindedly.

‘I’m a Malfoy,’ Draco said, by way of explanation.

Harry furrowed his brow.

‘Er… yes?’ he said carefully.

Malfoy turned his head and shot him an annoyed glance.

‘I’m a _Malfoy_? The place is called _Malfoy_ Manor for a reason?’ Draco elaborated. ‘ _I_ should have been the one to get the Manor back. In fact that thought was all that kept me sane for most of the time I was held captive’.

Malfoy shrugged helplessly.

Realisation finally dawned on Harry. He could kick himself for his own stupidity. _Of course_ Draco had wanted to get the Manor back himself. Needed to in fact. It didn’t matter how much more difficult it would have been for Draco to accomplish what Harry had so easily. That wasn’t the point. Harry had given Malfoy some much needed confidence and power back when he gave him back his wand. And now, with this thoughtless action, he’d taken it all away again.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said, meaning it this time.

Draco smiled at him. The smile made his eyes light up which caused a funny reaction somewhere in the pit of Harry’s stomach.

‘It’s alright,’ Draco said quietly, also meaning it Harry thought. Draco’s silver eyes flared up again which caused Harry to feel another one of those funny reactions.

‘Don’t do it again though, shut me out I mean. I need to be involved. _Promise_ me,’ Draco insisted.

Harry did.

 

* * *

 

‘I guess we should have anticipated that,’ Luc said thoughtfully.

Harry nodded. He and Luc were wandering round a farmers’ market about twenty miles away from the estate. Stéphane was making the rounds in the small towns in the area, promoting their new wine. Harry had taken the opportunity to visit the popular market and Luc had happily tagged along. Harry had just finished telling Luc about Draco’s unexpectedly violent reaction last night. Of course Luc wasn’t nearly as surprised by this as Harry had been.

Luc stopped at a stall selling cherries, testing a few before buying a whole crate.

‘He’s alright with it now though, right?’ Luc asked, as they moved on to the next stall.

‘I think so, yes,’ Harry said.

Luc eyed him suspiciously.

‘Something else is wrong, isn’t there?’ he asked sharply.

Harry sighed. Luc was way too perceptive for his own good sometimes. He was much like Hermione in that respect.

‘It’s nothing really,’ Harry tried, walking up to a stand selling all kinds of jams, happy for the distraction. After some careful consideration and some fanatical haggling he stepped away from the stall with his new purchase dangling along in a cheap plastic bag. He looked at his friend to see him looking back patiently. Harry sighed again.

‘Oh alright! It’s just that Draco got so angry, he pushed me up against a wall,’ Harry explained, rubbing the large bruise at the base of his spine thoughtfully. ‘We were fighting, with words I mean, and then suddenly he went all quiet,’ Harry continued, combing a hand through his unruly hair.

Luc looked back at him with a blank expression, so Harry continued: ‘It was, I don’t know… weird. And very tense. He looked at me in a way that made no sense to me. And then, when he smiled like that…’ Harry shrugged. ‘I can’t really explain it’.

Luc looked at him with a silent little smile that made Harry feel uneasy.

‘What?’ he asked defensively.

‘You like this Malfoy, don’t you? This _Draco_ I mean,’ Luc said smugly.

Harry flushed.

‘Well yes ok, so I like the bloody git. He’s alright. So what?’ he responded, almost aggressively.

Luc held his hands up in mock defence.

‘Hey, fine by me Harry. I like him too. He’s interesting, smart, funny... Not bad to look at either,’ he added, eyeing Harry sideways.

Harry gave a non committal sort of grunt.

‘I suppose,’ he agreed reluctantly.

Luc whipped his head round to look at him directly and narrowed his eyes.

‘Well... This is a surprising turn of events I must say. Didn’t see that one coming, I admit,’ Luc mumbled.

‘What are you talking about?’ Harry asked, feeling just as confused as he had last night.

Luc opened his mouth to speak, thought for a minute and than closed it again.

‘Nothing Harry. Don’t mind me,’ Luc finally said. He laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder and patted him gently before moving off to a stall that sold different kind of vegetables.

‘What?’ Harry called after him in irritation. ‘Luc, what is it?’

But Luc didn’t respond.

* * *

 

When Stéphane dropped Harry off at the estate, Draco was waiting for him on the bottom step. He stood up as he saw Harry walk toward him.

‘An owl came for you this morning,’ Draco said, as soon as Harry was within speaking range. ‘I think it’s from Granger’.

Harry took the envelop Draco held out for him and nodded as soon as he recognised the neat handwriting.

‘It is. Let’s see what it says’. Harry ripped open the envelope and unfolded the parchment. After a moment’s thought, he indicated for Draco to join him in reading the letter. He’d promised he’d include Draco from now on after all. When he saw Draco’s eyes light up as they had last night, he was glad that he had.

They read the letter in companionable silence. It was short and carefully formulated. Hermione must have been worried that the letter would be intercepted somehow. Basically, it just told them that all was going well. She wrote that she had found quite a few “contacts” but mentioned none by name. She also reaffirmed their scheduled meeting, three days from now at Malfoy Manor. Harry looked at Draco anxiously as he read those last lines. Draco didn’t take his eyes off the letter, but nudged Harry’s shoulder in silent reassurance. Harry smiled and kept smiling until Draco finally looked back at him.

‘So… I guess I’ll be going home than,’ Draco pondered.

‘I guess so,’ Harry agreed. ‘Are you alright with that?’

‘I am,’ Draco said with a quiet confidence that gave Harry a warm feeling.

Draco’s eyes flicked back to the steps he had been sitting on when Harry arrived. He jerked his head in their direction.

‘Is that where you found me?’ Draco asked quietly.

Harry nodded. Draco looked at the steps with sharp eyes, as if willing them to show the vision of him lying there.

‘Let’s go inside,’ Harry suggested gently, placing a hand in the small of Draco’s back and leading him inside.

Draco went with him without protest. As Harry closed the door behind them, Draco stopped and cleared his throat.

‘Thank you… _Harry_ ’.

A new wave of that warm feeling rushed through Harry at the sound of his first name coming from Draco’s lips. He made a mental note to think about that later. For now he just smiled at Draco and said: ‘You’re welcome… _Draco_ ’.

 

 


	8. Paris

‘Santé!’

Harry looked around the table with contentment as glasses were clinked together in a cheery toast. Stéphane and his very pregnant wife Nicole were seated to Harry’s right. On his other side were Luc and his boyfriend Alain, both helping themselves to large quantities of delicious looking food. Draco was sitting across the table from Harry, looking a little uncomfortable. Harry couldn’t blame him, as besides himself, Luc was the only one Draco knew even a little bit.

Draco, Luc and Harry would be leaving for Paris in the morning, to catch the international floo connection. Harry had been happily surprised when Luc stated plainly that he would be coming too. He would never have asked it of his friend, but when the offer was made, Harry was quick to accept it.

Today had been filled with making final arrangements, handing out orders and making sure the estate would run smoothly while Harry was gone. Harry was confident that Stéphane could handle things perfectly fine until whenever he’d be able to return. When Harry first bought the estate, he had stolen Stéphane away from one of the neighbouring vineyards. He’d never regretted his decision. Stéphane was young, but very knowledgeable, having grown up on a vineyard in the Bourgogne. He looked over to see the young wizard busy himself fussing over his wife. Nicole was rolling her eyes at her husband, assuring him she was fine, but Harry could tell she was secretly enjoying the attention.

All the arrangements were made, the trunks were packed and they were ready to leave for Paris in the morning. All that remained for tonight was to enjoy themselves and say their goodbyes.

‘You must be bloody joking!’ Alain huffed loudly.

Harry turned his head toward the  dark haired, hot tempered wizard. Alain looked about ready to start throwing one of his infamous hissy fits, which were always very entertaining. Though not for poor Luc Harry thought as he looked at his friend fondly.

‘Look Alain, just calm down will you? I’m trying to explain to you…’ Luc started.

‘Don’t even try it you wanker! Merde! No need for explanations here, I’m coming with you to Paris. Assez!’ Alain proclaimed, crossing his arms and glaring at his boyfriend threateningly.

Luc sighed.

‘I’m sorry Alain. I should have realised you would want to come,’ Luc said. He looked at Harry and Draco pleadingly. ‘You won’t mind if Alain comes along, will you?’

‘Of course not,’ Harry was quick to assure him.

Luc heaved a sigh of relief and turned toward Draco. Draco jolted, obviously not expecting to be asked for his consent. He was quick to recover though and nodded his consent silently. Crisis averted, Alain beamed brightly and started digging into the pile of food on his plate.

Kreacher was looking absolutely gleeful at the amount of food people were shovelling in. Harry knew how much Kreacher enjoyed cooking for small parties like this and he did an absolutely smashing job. He was glad that the house elf would stay behind on the estate. This was his home now and since Stéphane and Nicole would be staying on the estate while Harry was gone, Kreacher would have plenty to occupy him with. Harry was sure to miss the faithful house elf though, and his amazing cooking skills.

‘Your hair is so beautiful and looks so soft,’ Alain gushed at Draco. ‘Do you mind if I…’

Without waiting for consent, Alain brushed his hand over Draco’s silky smooth blond strands. ‘Oui, c’est magnifique!’

Harry expected Draco to flinch at the touch, but he did not. Draco just laughed and started chatting with Alain in French fluently. For some reason, Harry did not like that one bit. He looked over at Luc to see how he felt about his boyfriend’s decidedly flirty manner, but found his friend looking back at him with another of those annoying little smiles.

‘What?’ he asked with exasperation.

‘Nothing at all,’ Luc replied innocently. ‘It’s nice to have a lovely dinner with friends like this, isn’t it?’

‘It is,’ Harry admitted, keeping an eye on Alain, who he felt was sitting a little bit closer to Draco than strictly necessary. He wondered if he should point this out to Luc, but decided against it. Luc and Alain’s relationship was rock solid, despite Alain’s quick temper. No need to stir up trouble. Harry checked their proximity one more time. _Well_ , he decided silently, _not yet anyway. I’ll have to keep an eye on them just in case._

‘You really don’t mind that Alain will be coming with us to Paris do you?’ Luc asked, his expression serious.

Harry smiled reassuringly at his friend.

‘Of course I don’t. Though I’m not sure why he’s so excited to go all of a sudden?’ Harry said, looking puzzled.

Luc smiled back sheepishly.

‘I might have told him that we’re going shopping for Muggle clothes,’ he admitted.

Ah, now Harry was starting to understand. As they were about to head off to England, they would need plenty of Muggle clothes. In the current British climate, dressing like Muggles was definitely the way to go. Most British wizards wore Muggle clothing these days. Robes were only worn on official occasions and for any type of uniform. And where better to shop for a new wardrobe than Paris? Especially since they needed to go there anyway, to catch the international floo connection.

Neither Luc nor Harry owned many presentable Muggle clothes, and Draco of course owned none. The blond had sneered excessively at the thought of being made to wear any type of Muggle clothes, but had seen reason in the end. They needed to be inconspicuous to be able to move about freely. Harry secretly agreed with the blond about his reservations about Muggle clothing. A Malfoy in Muggle clothing sounded… just plain wrong. But seeing as Draco would be wearing a glamour to disguise his distinctive Malfoy looks, it might look less weird than Harry imagined it.

‘I guess it would be good to have Alain with us really. He knows all about fashion, Muggle and Wizard. Let’s face it, we’re both a bit clueless when it comes to that area of expertise,’ Luc smirked.

‘If you say so… Though he’d better not try and get me into anything like that,’ Harry replied, gesturing toward the snugly fitting leather trousers Alain was wearing.

Luc eyed his boyfriend dressed in clothes that left little to the imagination appraisingly.

‘I don’t know Harry… I suspect you would look splendid in that. Malfoy too’.

Harry almost choked on his crème brûlée at that remark. He shot his friend a reproachful look, but Luc only chuckled and scooped up some more of the delicious dessert. And now Harry had this vivid image of Draco, his slender form clad in black leather trousers and a skin-tight black shirt. In his head he saw Draco slumped back in a chair, looking relaxed yet as elegant as ever. That posture would probably make his shirt ride up a bit, giving the onlooker a glimpse of the blond’s taut stomach. If the leather trousers were as low riding as Alain’s were, you might even be able to see the trail of white-blond fine hairs, that led all the way down from his navel to…

Harry bolted upright and let out an undignified little squeal. He flushed furiously as he noticed everyone but Draco and Alain look at him curiously.

‘I… It’s… Er… bathroom. Yeah, need to go to the bathroom. Sorry,’ Harry rambled as he rushed up the stairs to his private bathroom. He locked the door behind him, stepped up to the sink and ran some cool water over his wrists to calm himself. He splashed some water in his face for good measure and instantly felt a little better. Just a little mind… Not enough to think about the fact that he had just been, he might as well say it, _fantasising_ about Draco bloody Malfoy in black leather trousers. A very _male_ Draco Malfoy. Who made a very enticing picture in said leather trousers. Which was absolutely fine of course, except for the fact that Harry had never imagined putting the words _male_ and _enticing_ in the same sentence. Add to those two words the name Draco Malfoy and… well, that was just insanity, surely? Right?

 

* * *

 

Harry was pushed toward the dressing-room by an over-enthusiastic Alain, his arms so full of clothes that he almost collapsed under the weight. Luc had already been shoved in the same direction earlier and was busy trying on all of the different outfits. Draco, his reservations against Muggle clothing forgotten as soon as he caught sight of the first designer label silk shirt and cashmere sweater, was completely in his element. He had no need of Alain’s expertise, having a nose for what were the best brands and the finest quality without any prior experience with Muggle clothes. Alain had just looked on approvingly and moved on to the more hopeless cases that were Harry and Luc.

Now, with Draco, Harry and Luc in their own dressing-rooms and Alain in the common area with the huge mirrors, everyone was under strict instructions to change and then come out to show their outfit to the critical fashion connoisseur. Both Luc and Harry had received strict instructions of which items of clothing were supposed to be combined to make an outfit. Though Harry didn’t appreciate being talked down to like that, he also knew he needed the help. So he bit his tongue and listened obediently.

The first outfit Harry decided to try on was the relatively safe combination of a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt. Both were a lot more expensive and quite a bit more tightly fitted than anything he’d bought before, but still felt familiar enough to be comfortable with. Checking himself out in the mirror, Harry decided it was safe to step outside and let Alain appraise his new look.

Alain looked up from smoothing down a charcoal grey jacket Luc was currently wearing and clapped his hands in glee at the sight of Harry.

‘You look fabulous chéri! I knew you’d scrub up well!’ Alain exclaimed.

‘Yes Harry, that really suits you,’ Luc agreed.

Harry checked his reflection in the large mirror and quietly agreed with them. He didn’t look half bad. Not bad at all in fact.

‘Very nice Harry,’ he heard from behind him. He recognised the voice instantly as Draco’s, even though Draco was using the heavy French accent he had decided to use as a cover along with the subtle glamour on his face and hair.

Harry turned around to face him. He opened his mouth to thank Draco for his compliment, but was stunned into silence as he caught sight of the man. Although Draco was not dressed in leather trousers, the faded blue jeans fit him just as snugly as Harry had imagined the leather trousers would. Like Harry, he wore a white shirt with his jeans, but Draco’s was a button-up dress shirt with long sleeves. The material clung to Draco, revealing the fact that he wasn’t as skinny as he had been when he first arrived at the estate, and actually looked quite toned. The bottom buttons were left undone, revealing a bit of creamy white stomach that was indeed, as Harry had imagined it, taut.

‘Well? What do you think?’ Draco asked, in a way that told Harry it was not the first time he asked.

‘Oh… er… Good. Yeah, really good,’ Harry answered, grinning broadly to hide his embarrassment. He wasn’t sure how successful he was though, as both Draco and Luc eyed him with amusement and even Alain raised his eyebrow at him.

‘So, this one’s a keeper then. Better go try on the rest now. Excuse me,’ Harry said, quickly disappearing behind the curtain of his dressing room.

Harry rested his forehead against the cool glass of the mirror and sighed. Last night, he’d been able to shake off his confusing thoughts about his former nemesis relatively easily. Draco was a handsome man, that’s all. Anyone could see that, male or female. The fact that Harry had been practically drooling over the blond, was simply due to the fact that he hadn’t had sex for god knows how long. Satisfied that that must be it, he’d managed to push the image of Draco’s leather clad arse from his mind and had even been able to enjoy the rest of the evening.

But now there was no denying that Harry had been checking the blond out in his Muggle outfit. And had very much enjoyed it. Sure, he could still tell himself that it was just the lack-of-sex thing, but that seemed hardly convincing in the cold light of day. Especially since he wasn’t exactly lusting after Alain or Luc, or the pretty blond salesgirl for that matter. Or that sexy waitress in that place they went for lunch. Or any of the women or men he’d seen since they got to Paris.

Harry swallowed. He did not have time for this right now. He had no idea what he wanted and no time to really think about it. This would have to wait.

The rest of the afternoon left Harry in utter confusion. He’d seen Draco in what the salesgirl called a “Hugo Boss” suit, looking stunning. He’d seen him in black trousers and a cashmere sweater looking very appealing. Draco in white looked just plain hot, in black both plain hot and incredibly sexy. How was it, that he’d been completely oblivious to the blond’s good looks, and now it was pretty much all he could think about?

The ultimate torture came as they visited the underwear department. Draco of course owned nothing, so he needed everything from pyjamas to pants, socks and shoes. Draco had been very reluctant to spend any money on himself at first. Luckily Harry had been able to tell the blond about the Black vaults, and how that money should have been Draco’s anyway really. Harry had dipped in to the vaults for the first time when he’d bought Malfoy Manor, but there were still plenty of Galleons left for the blond to live on for quite some time.

And now Draco was checking out the large men’s underwear collection, and all Harry could do was picture him in every item Draco picked up. Thank god he’d be spared the torture of actually having to watch Draco model them. Although Alain had been all for it, Draco had put his foot down on that one. Alain had pouted for a few seconds, but than happily trotted off to find himself some new, shockingly tight and small, pants. Harry had no desire to imagine Alain in any of his chosen outfits, but Luc had perked up considerably as he saw a pair of powder blue stretchy pants being chosen. Harry turned away quickly. Some things you just didn’t need to know about your friends…

Harry looked at Draco as he paid for his new clothes with a Muggle credit card. Harry and Alain had tried to explain the concept to Draco last night, but got nothing more than confused looks in return. A small square piece of what is called “plastic” instead of gold coins? And then you’d have to “type” in some numbers on a little machine? Draco had shot them several looks that clearly stated he thought they were either crazy or trying to fool him in some way. Only after seeing Muggles pay with the little cards all day today, did he finally believe them. So far, Harry had taken care of the payment for both him and Draco, but this time Draco had asked to pay himself.

Harry looked at Draco, who looked totally calm and self assured as he handed the card over to the salesgirl. And totally hot in his brand new white linen trousers and grey shirt. Once again Harry was struck with the blond’s strength and resilience. He was glad that they had built a tentative friendship while in France. Harry remembered thinking before just how very _interesting_ Draco was. Now, that level of _interesting_ had reached some new heights. Some very disturbing and uncomfortable new heights. It certainly left Harry with plenty of stuff to think about…

 

 


	9. A warm welcome

‘Are you ready for this?’ Harry felt compelled to ask.

Draco visibly startled. He stopped fidgeting with his robes for a moment and looked up to give Harry a bit of a wobbly smile.

‘I suppose I am,’ Draco answered, a bit hesitantly.

Harry did not prod any further. He didn’t need to. They were about to floo into Malfoy Manor and that made the blond nervous for obvious reasons. Harry couldn’t blame him really. He knew this must be very emotional for Draco. After all, Malfoy Manor was the place Draco had grown up in, but also the place he was kept prisoner in before being kicked out without pardon.

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment before adding: ‘Can you just give me a minute more please?’

‘Of course,’ both Harry and Luc assured him simultaneously.

Harry looked at Draco discreetly as the blond took a few calming breaths, forced his shoulders to come down and his fingers to unclench. Draco was wearing his glamour which Harry was eternally grateful for. He’d hardly got any sleep last night, instead tossing and turning while being plagued by images of the handsome wizard. There was no escaping the fact that he found Draco attractive, _very_ attractive even. Harry would just have to deal with that, because there was no way that Harry was going to harass the blond with his unfortunately timed feelings. The man had enough to deal with for fuck’s sake and hardly needed Harry perving after him. To tell the truth, Draco looked as beautiful with his glamour as he did without it, only less… Draco. Which, for the sake of Harry’s hormones, was a very good thing. It made it easier for Harry to ignore his confusing feelings for a while and focus on being the supportive friend Draco had a right to and needed more than anything right now.

‘Right. Let’s do this,’ Draco said, a steely glint to his eyes.

Luc and Harry shared an anxious look before following Draco through the fire.

Harry almost bumped into Draco as he stepped out of the fire. The blond stood frozen and it took Harry a few moments to realise why.

All twelve of the Malfoy house elves were lined up in front of the fireplace, obviously ready to greet their master.

‘You is so very much being welcome Master Draco Sir. Krinkey is being pleased to welcome Master Draco into his rightful home once again’.

It was the eldest of the house elves that had spoken, with great dignity. He bowed low at the end of his little speech and nodded curtly at Luc and Harry before turning to Draco and waiting for orders.

Draco however, was not speaking. He wasn’t doing much of anything really. He had dropped his glamour and stared at the line of house elves with a pale face and huge, silvery eyes. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as if involuntarily, but no sound came out. Luc eyed Harry uncertainly in the awkward silence that followed. Harry was about to shrug helplessly, when the silence was suddenly broken by the smallest of the Malfoy elves. It flew at Draco, flung his little arms around Draco’s legs and hugged them tightly.

‘Poppin is m-m-missing M-m-master Draco s-s-so very much,’ the little elf wailed.

Harry’s heart constricted as he saw Draco pull himself together and pat the elf’s head gently.

‘There there Poppin, now don’t go upsetting yourself. No need for any of that,’ he reassured the still sniffling little elf awkwardly.

That seemed to be a signal for all the other elves to start crying and laughing, all at the same time.

‘I is so happy to be seeing Master Draco again also!’

‘We is making your rooms ready for you Master Draco, don’t you be worrying yourself!’

‘Are you being hungry Master Draco? Flopsey is preparing all of your old favourites just in cases’.

A chorus of high pitched voices fought to be heard by “Master Draco”, all wanting to express how very happy they were to see him and how they had made every effort to make Draco more comfortable. Draco looked quite overwhelmed as he glanced over them. One had fallen to its knees, wailing loudly, while others hopped around excitedly, trying to get Draco’s attention.

Harry hid a smile as he noticed how appalled poor old Krinkey looked at the undignified behaviour of his fellow elves. He puffed up his little chest and started berating the others indignantly: ‘You all must being controlling yourselves! You is being Malfoy elves! Malfoy elves is being dignified and proper at all times!’

With his words, Krinkey started shooing the other elves toward the kitchen, telling them to get everything ready and to leave “Master Draco” in peace.

‘Thank you Krinkey. You are an exemplary Malfoy house elf,’ Draco said solemnly. Krinkey beamed at him, bowed a couple of times and then apparated with a crack.

Draco looked down on Poppin. The elf was still clinging to his legs, despite Draco’s best efforts to peel him off, and staring up at Draco with big, adoring eyes.

‘Now you go and join the other elves in the kitchen Poppin,’ Draco urged the little elf. ‘You know you’re the only one I trust with the chocolate éclairs. I assume you’ll be making some?’

Poppin started nodding vigorously.

‘Yes Sir Master Draco. Of course Poppin is making some. I is remembering them being your favourite’.

The elf was obviously loathe to let go of Draco’s leg. Harry privately sympathised. The blond looked very huggable with his genuine smile lighting up the shining grey eyes.

Poppin hesitated, hugged Draco’s legs fiercely one more time before letting go and apparating to the kitchen.

Draco stared into space for a moment, not moving.

‘You didn’t tell me you got the house elves back as well,’ Draco finally said, very quietly. He wasn’t looking at Harry, which made it difficult for Harry to judge his emotions.

‘I’m sorry. I-I didn’t think…’ Harry stuttered.

Draco turned to face Harry with bright silvery eyes that caught Harry’s breath.

‘No, don’t. You did well. Very well,’ Draco interrupted warmly.

Harry was about to answer, but Draco had already turned away from him with purpose.

‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s explore the rest of the Manor. See what those distasteful idiots tried to do to it’.

Draco led the way as they inspected every square inch of the Manor and its grounds. The first part of the house Draco wanted to check out was the Eastern Wing. Harry had told him about how that part of the house, along with the Master Suite, had locked itself against the Campbells, but Draco needed to see it for himself.

As soon as Draco placed a hand on the doors leading to the Eastern Wing, they opened with a subtle click. Harry shivered as he saw the look of intense satisfaction flash across Draco’s features. Luc noticed the shiver and gave Harry an odd look. Harry flushed and turned away from his friend to follow Draco in.

‘Yes, oh yesss…’ Draco almost purred. He wandered from room to room, his smile growing brighter after every inspection. ‘Everything is the same. It’s all still here…’

Draco stroked a delicate little table fondly.

‘These were- _are_ my rooms you know. I’ve decorated most of them myself,’ Draco explained. ‘They were for my use exclusively, well, my use and that of my future family I suppose. Father told me once that there was some sort of ancient Malfoy blood magic connected to the most personal and private rooms of the Manor, but I didn’t dare to even consider what that could mean’.

Draco lingered in some of the rooms more than others, reverently touching an embroidered bedspread, an intricately decorated mirror, a comfortable chair… Harry just looked at Draco, who seemed happier than Harry had ever seen him. He felt Luc’s eyes on him, watching him, observing him, but couldn’t make himself look away from the beautiful blond. Harry was determined to keep himself in check, to absolutely _not_ bother Draco with his own new and confusing feelings. But to himself, he could deny them no longer. Harry would have to reconsider everything he thought he knew about himself. Because one thing was for sure, he quite obviously fancied one very male Draco Malfoy.

Harry swallowed and felt himself flush. Luckily, Draco was turned away from him, too busy hugging a set of beautiful dress robes with an ecstatic expression plastered all over his face. Harry quite approved. He privately thought that he himself might be wearing a similarly ecstatic expression if he saw the blond wearing those deep blue robes. Or wearing one of the other numerous high quality robes he spotted hanging in the huge walk-in wardrobe. Or wearing nothing at all…

‘… don’t you think? Harry?’

Harry startled and noticed both Luc and Draco looking at him questioningly.

‘Sorry, sorry! My mind wandered off there for a bit. What did you say?’ Harry rambled.

Draco quirked his eyebrow but gave no further response.

‘Draco suggested we go and eat something before exploring the rest of the house. I think it’s a good idea, how about you?’ Luc filled in the blanks.

Harry’s stomach growled loudly before he could even make a response.

‘That settles it than. Can’t have the mighty Harry Potter faint from food deprivation now can we?’ Draco smirked.

 

* * *

 

Harry almost felt like he was back in Hogwarts looking at the huge table laden with every kind of food imaginable. There was so much food even, that Harry was convinced it actually could have fed the whole of Hogwarts and then some. All three of them dug in with enthusiasm, piling large quantities of food on their plates before proceeding to eat as much as they possibly could. Even Draco was a bit lax with the table manners tonight Harry couldn’t help but notice. He ate several of Poppin’s chocolate éclairs with obvious relish. Harry stopped eating the delicious bowl of treacle tart for a moment so he could watch the (decisively erotic) sight. He did notice Luc’s knowing smirk at that, but decided to ignore it. Harry had realised while tossing and turning last night what Luc’s previous knowing smiles and annoying little smirks had all been about. Luc quite obviously knew _exactly_ how Harry was feeling and how confused Harry would be by said feelings. _Insightful little bastard_ , Harry fumed silently.

After the meal, Luc sighed and leant back in his chair.

‘That was excellent Draco. Très magnifique!’ he murmured with clear appreciation.

‘Yeah, really really good,’ Harry agreed with a happy sigh.

‘Why thank you, so glad you both approved,’ Draco answered, inclining his head mockingly.

‘Can’t believe you had treacle tart as well. Didn’t know you liked that sort of thing,’ Harry said.

‘I don’t’, Draco responded, pulling a face.

‘You don’t?’ Harry asked, feeling puzzled. ‘But I thought the elves made all your favourites?’

Draco eyed him up and down calmly before responding: ‘ _I_ don’t, but don’t think I haven’t noticed how _you_ used to stuff your face with the dessert back in Hogwarts’.

Harry felt ridiculously pleased knowing Draco had gone to the trouble of telling the elves to make him his favourite dessert. He told himself sternly that it didn’t mean anything, but he couldn’t help but be secretly thrilled.

Krinkey was pouring them all some coffee when Harry decided they had trespassed on Draco’s hospitality for long enough.

‘I think I might skip coffee actually. We should go check into our hotel now, don’t you think?’ Harry asked Luc.

‘Excuse me? What is this talk of a hotel? A Malfoy’s hospitality not good enough for you is that it?’ Draco sneered.

‘What? No!!’ Harry exclaimed, feeling mortified. ‘We just thought you’d want some privacy that’s all. We didn’t want to impose’.

‘Yes, let’s leave Draco all alone in the Manor. Excellent idea Harry, truly inspired. After all, it’s not as if I’ve been alone here for oh, I don’t know, _ten years!’_ Draco bit at him with heavy sarcasm.

Harry groaned and buried his head in his arms.

‘I’m an idiot,’ Harry decided miserably.

‘Well quite,’ Draco agreed pleasantly. ‘Now let’s have no more of this utter nonsense. Flopsey!’

The elf appeared immediately after being summoned.

‘Yes Master Draco Sir?’ Flopsey asked eagerly.

‘Prepare two of our finest guest rooms for Mister Harry and Mister Luc here’. Draco thought for a minute before adding: ’The Sunroom for Mister Luc I think and… yes, the Abraxas Suite for Mister Harry please’.

‘Flopsey is making everything perfect for Master Draco’s guests Sir, you is not to worry,’ the elf assured them earnestly before bowing and apparating out.

‘Good that’s settled then,’ Draco pronounced with satisfaction. He stretched luxuriously and continued: ‘Now who’s for some coffee?’

 

 


	10. An open door

‘Harry?’ 

Harry looked up at the sound of his name accompanied by a soft knock on his door.

‘Come on in Luc,’ he called.

Luc stepped into the room and whistled appreciatively. 

‘And I thought _I_ had a fancy room. Très chic mon ami, très chic!’

Harry looked around the main room warily. 

‘I know right? I think it used to be his grandfather’s room or something. His name was Abraxas, wasn’t it?’ Harry sighed. ‘I tried to talk him out of it when he showed me the rooms, but he just smiled pleasantly and then proceeded to ignore me’. 

‘Rooms? As in rooms plural?’ Luc enquired.

Harry nodded.

Luc wandered in and started opening doors, checking out the other rooms. There were two bedrooms, a second living room, an office, a library and of course a huge bathroom. 

Luc looked very impressed as he walked back into the room.

‘You know you have a pool instead of a tub in your bathroom there? Not to mention that shower that I’m sure is as big as the communal one in the Quidditch locker rooms back at Beauxbatons’. 

‘Don’t remind me,’ Harry groaned. 

‘Oh come on Harry! It’s lovely of Draco to pick this suite of rooms for you isn’t it? Then again, he _is_ a lovely bloke. Quite fit as well, wouldn’t you say Harry?’

Harry glared at his friend, clearly not amused.

‘Yeah alright Luc, rub it in why don’t you. You could have just _told_ me you know,’ Harry said accusingly.

‘What?’ asked Luc with innocent eyes.

‘You knew I was… well… getting closer to Draco. _You_ knew it before I did,’ Harry said with narrowed eyes.

‘Getting closer? You and Draco? Somehow I got the impression that you’d like to get a hell of a lot closer than you’ve managed to get so far,’ Luc answered with a wicked smirk.

‘Oh ha bloody ha Luc. You’re absolutely hilarious,’ Harry grumbled. 

Luc laughed heartily, sat down next to Harry and nudged him with his shoulder.

‘Relax Harry. So you like Draco, what’s the big deal? If it helps, I think you have excellent taste,’ Luc said gleefully.

But as he noticed Harry’s glum expression, Luc turned serious.

‘Harry? Why is this so upsetting for you? Go on, whatever it is, you can tell me’, the French wizard said kindly.

Harry sighed miserably.

‘It’s nothing. I guess it’s just unexpected that’s all. I can’t believe I’m suddenly fancying blokes now. Where the fuck did that come from?’ Harry complained.

‘What exactly is it that is bothering you?’ Luc enquired. ‘Is it the “bloke” thing, the “Draco” thing or just that you fancy someone at all that’s the problem?’

Harry thought for a moment before replying: ‘Honestly? I suppose it’s all three’. 

‘Hmmm…’ Luc nodded. ‘Alright, let’s start with the “fancying someone” thing. Tell me how you feel about that’.

‘Freaked out,’ was Harry’s immediate response. ‘I never really gave it much thought, but I’m hardly experienced in these matters now am I? The only serious relationship I’ve ever been in was with Ginny and that ended disastrously. I’ve told you about that, right?’

Luc nodded.

‘And ever since I’ve been in France, my love life has been pitiful at best, wouldn’t you say?’ Harry continued.

‘I’m afraid you have a point. Remember that disaster with Sabine?’ Luc asked.

Harry shuddered.

‘I’d forgotten about that. I think the whole village could hear her shrieking. I’ve always been a bit of a disaster when it comes to women. Even back in Hogwarts,’ Harry admitted.

‘So… maybe it’s a good thing that you’re into blokes now? At least this way you won’t make a fool of yourself…,’ Luc tried.

Harry laughed bitterly.

‘Oh I’m pretty sure I’ll make a fool of myself regardless. With Draco, I somehow always manage to put my foot right in it’ 

Luc grinned.

‘You do seem to have a particular talent for that, yes. So I guess it’s not that you make a fool of yourself with _women_ , it’s that you make a fool of yourself when you’re around someone you sort of… like?’ Luc asked gingerly.

‘Oh fuck, I think you might be right,’ Harry groaned miserably. 

‘Courage mon ami. Surely it’s not as bad as all that. Do you have any idea how he feels about you?’ Luc asked.

Harry shrugged.

‘Not a clue. Anyway, you’re the smart and insightful one, what do _you_ think?’ he muttered.

‘Not sure really…’Luc pondered. ‘He always seems so in control of his emotion, doesn’t let much show… Perhaps you should just ask him?’

‘Not bloody likely! I’m not asking Draco about anything like that. He’s barely hanging in there as it is, can’t you tell?’ Harry asked.

Luc looked startled.

‘But you _have_ to talk about this with Draco. What, are you just going to pretend everything is fine, nothing out of the ordinary?’ Luc asked with incredulity.

‘That’s right,’ Harry confirmed, determination dripping from his every word.

‘But…’ Luc started.

‘Leave it Luc,’ Harry warned.

Luc opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind after a stern look from Harry.

‘Alright Harry, if that’s the way you want it…’ Luc said, raising his hands in mock surrender.

‘It is,’ Harry answered shortly.

 

* * *

 

Harry sighed happily and nestled himself deeper in the soft pillows. He’d never been this comfortable in his life. He buried himself a little deeper underneath the soft duvet, sniffling at the crisp, clean sheets appreciatively. He was determined to stay awake just a little bit longer. It seemed like a waste to just go right to sleep in such a bed, Harry thought. Although he did suppose that that’s what it was made for. Well, that and… 

Harry blushed. Merlin he was pathetic. Just an hour ago he’d been insisting to Luc how he’d have no problem acting like everything was normal, ignoring his attraction to Draco, just go on as usual… And now here he was, trying to _not_ fantasise about having Draco in his bed. _Not_ thinking about how Draco would look, how he’d feel against him, what his scent would be like… 

Harry hid his head under the duvet and groaned. Splendid. Just lovely. Now he’d have no trouble staying awake, that was for sure. Every single part of him felt searing with life, with fire, with lust… Harry ground his teeth together and squeezed his eyes shut. He forced himself to control his physical reaction to the vivid image of Draco, stretched out next to him, wearing nothing but one of those cocky little smirks…

‘Aaaaargh! Get out of my head you stupid, gorgeous, irritating blond… menace!’ Harry cried into his pillow. 

Harry threw the duvet off, sat up straight and looked accusingly at the bed beneath him. Earlier, he’d been convinced there was some sort of magic at work in the enormous four poster bed. No Muggle bed could ever be this soft yet firm, cool yet warm, soothing yet invigorating. Harry didn’t know if it was in the hangings, the pillows, the mattress, the sheets, but he could definitely feel the hum of magic buzzing around the beautiful piece of furniture. Now though, he started to suspect that the powerful magic did a little more than just make the occupant feel comfortable. Harry was sure the bed somehow enhanced his budding feelings, making it impossible for Harry to not think of the blond wizard...

Harry lay back down and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. He focussed on his breathing, in and out… in and out… in… out… and in… Yes, this was working, Harry thought, more than a little bit relieved. He felt himself relax, the tension drift out of him… He was about to slip into a light sleep, when suddenly something startled him. A very soft, almost inaudible, desperate kind of whining sound reached his ears. It sounded like some kind of animal in distress. Harry stiffened and held his breath. He focussed on the sound, trying to locate its source…

There! There it was again! It came from his right, Harry felt pretty sure about that now. Grabbing for his wand and his glasses, Harry cast a quick Lumos and then almost choked. There, in the middle of the wall, was a door that had not been there before. The door was massive, made of a very dark, shiny kind of wood that looked like ebony. It had subtle gold details that made the wood look warm and inviting.

But Harry wasn’t fooled. Whatever was making that noise, was obviously on the other side of that door. Harry wasn’t so sure he wanted to find out just what was causing it to make that heart wrenching sound. 

Harry held his breath again. Yes, the sound was still there. Rolling his eyes at himself, he scrambled out of bed and headed for the door. Holding his wand at the ready, Harry quietly turned the knob and waited. Instantly, the lock gave a soft click and then slowly drifted open.

Harry peeked around the corner, letting the light at the tip of his wand glide through the room. It took him only half a second to realise just what room he was in. It took him even less to conclude that it was in fact Draco making those soft, whimpering noises.  Draco looked so pale against the white pillows, his face contorted in obvious distress. His body was rolled up into a little ball and his hands gripped the blankets so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Without a second thought, Harry rushed over to the bed and clambered onto it to reach Draco. 

‘Draco?’ Harry asked quietly, placing a gentle hand on the blond’s arm.

Draco cringed back from the touch. The whimpering stopped and was replaced by quick, anxious breaths.

‘Draco?’ Harry insisted. ‘Come on Draco, wake up! It’s just a dream, I swear. Please wake up…’

Draco covered his head with his arms and pleaded quietly: ‘No… please no… not again… please…’

Harry’s throat constricted and his skin broke out in goose bumps. Draco needed to wake up, he needed to wake up _now_!

‘Wake up Draco,’ he shouted harshly, shaking the blond violently. 

Draco’s eyes flew open and he gasped his breath in shock. Harry sat back and withdrew his hands. Only now did he realise what an awkward possession he was in, in Draco’s room, on Draco’s bed even, without being invited.

Grey eyes in a tear streaked face slowly focussed on him. 

‘Harry?’ Draco asked, his confusion clear.

‘Yeah,’ Harry answered, not knowing what else to say.

‘What are you doing here?’ the blond continued.

Harry hesitated.

‘I… I heard you. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry…’ Harry whispered.

‘No, no, that’s ok… I’m glad you woke me up’. Draco shuddered and sat up. ‘I get these dreams sometimes. They feel so… _real_ somehow. But they’re not, I know they’re not. My room is real, the Manor is real, all my things, you are real… I _know_ that’.

Draco’s quiet words seemed aimed at himself mostly, so Harry didn’t respond.

After sitting together silently for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts, Draco suddenly looked up at Harry.

‘Wait. How did you get in here? The entrance to my suite is warded against anyone entering without my knowledge’.

‘I came through there,’ Harry answered, indicating the ebony door with a nod.

When Draco saw the door, he seemed to grow even paler.

‘I don’t understand this…’ he whispered desperately.

‘I know,’ Harry agreed. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t there before. And although my suite is in the same wing as yours, I didn’t think they were adjacent’. 

Draco shook his head.

‘They’re not, only the bedrooms are. I’d almost forgotten, but I’ve seen this door before…’ Draco mumbled.

Harry said nothing, waiting quietly for Draco to continue on with his story.

‘The suite you’re staying in? It used to be my Grandfathers suite. I loved Grandfather Abraxas, and he doted on me. I remember waking up early on weekends and sneaking through that same door. My parents didn’t want to be disturbed before nine, but my Grandfather was always happy to see me, no matter what the hour. He used to summon Krinkey and made him bring up a lavish breakfast. We’d eat, talk, he’d teach me to play wizard chess…’

Draco smiled weakly before going on: ‘The door was always there back then. It disappeared the day he died, I haven’t seen it since. I was about eight years old at the time. I still miss him…’

Draco looked at the door and swallowed.

‘I can’t believe it came back, just like that… What do you think it means?’ Draco asked wonderingly. 

‘I don’t know,’ Harry answered honestly. 

‘I’m going to have to check out the archive, I’m sure I can find some sort of an answer there…’ Draco pondered.

‘I’m sure you can. Is it alright if we get some sleep first though?’ Harry enquired dryly. 

Draco smiled and nodded, stifling a yawn.

‘Good point. Night Harry,’ Draco said, his voice already slightly sleepy.

Harry smiled at the blond, slid off the bed and walked back to the door.

‘Oh Harry?’ he heard as he was about to step into his own room again.

‘Yeah?’ Harry said, turning back to face a now very sleepy Draco.

Draco hesitated for a moment, before continuing: ‘Just leave the door open, alright?’

‘Alright,’ Harry agreed. ‘Night Draco’.

‘Mmmm…’

 


	11. Allies

‘Bloody hell Hermione, how many people are you expecting?’ 

Harry looked around the huge ballroom open mouthed. Hermione snapped her head back to look at him reproachfully.

‘When are you going to start listening to me? I _told_ you how easy it was finding people who wanted to participate in some sort of rebellion against the ministry,’ Hermione answered, before sweeping the room with her eyes to make sure there were enough seats for everyone. 

‘Yes, I guess it’ll do,’ she decided.

‘I’m so pleased the room meets with your approval’.

Harry turned to see Draco walking in the room, ever so calmly. He looked perfectly at ease, very much the Lord of the Manor. He also looked bloody gorgeous, but that was pretty much a given as far as Harry was concerned.

‘Leave it out Draco. The room is gorgeous, I told you that. I was merely checking to see if everyone would fit, that’s all,’ Hermione grumbled good-naturedly. 

Draco sighed and raised his wand.

‘Hello? Remember these? _Engorgio!_ Merlin you Muggleborns are hopeless sometimes,’ Draco proclaimed as he watched the room expand to double its size. ‘How’s that?’

Hermione blushed.

‘Sorry about that. No, that’s a bit much I think, could you…’

Draco expanded and shrunk the room several times until it met with Hermione’s approval. 

Harry kept a close eye on his two friends as they bickered about the choice of food and drinks they’d be serving their guests. Hermione felt lunch was hardly the point of their meeting and that “a few sandwiches” would do nicely. Draco insisted that this was still _Malfoy_ Manor and that there was _no way_ he’d be serving anything as plebeian as a slab of ham and cheese on some bread.

On the surface, Draco looked fine, but Harry couldn’t shrug the notion that something was wrong. Harry hadn’t seen the blond since breakfast which was several hours ago. Everything had been ok then, but now… He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something had changed. Draco seemed to be ignoring Harry, yet whenever Harry looked the other way, he felt silver eyes burning a hole in his back. 

‘… what do you think Harry?’

Harry startled. Blimey, he’d have to stop doing that.

‘Sorry Hermione, what?’

‘Smoked salmon and cucumber sandwiches? They’re fancy enough aren’t they?’ she asked again hopefully.

Draco snorted.

‘Look Hermione, this is _my_ home, not yours, making them _my_ guests, not yours! Therefore _I_ will be deciding the menu, without your help thank you very much,’ Draco insisted. ‘Besides, the elves have been working on the food platter since breakfast, so there’s no point arguing about it now’. 

‘Fine,’ Hermione huffed.

‘It is indeed,’ Draco agreed pleasantly. 

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and got back to counting and rearranging furniture. 

‘Everything is running smoothly Draco. Those elves are quite impressive, as is this room by the way,’ Luc said, as he walked into the room. 

‘Thank you for checking on that for me Luc,’ Draco said, smiling warmly. 

It irked Harry more than a little bit that the French wizard got one of those lovely smiles, while Harry was being studiously ignored. Harry checked the time.

‘About ten minutes before the guests start arriving. Just leave it Hermione, I’m sure there are enough seats, and if not, we can always conjure up some more,’ Harry said. He cast another quick glance at Draco. ‘Are you sure it’s alright for him not wear a glamour?’

Hermione nodded impatiently.

‘Of course. As soon as the guests arrive, they’ll know they’re at the Manor anyway,’ Hermione explained. ‘And don’t worry, they won’t blab, I made sure of that’.

The wicked smirk on Hermione’s face was impressive, bordering on terrifying. 

‘What did you do?’ Draco enquired curiously.

‘Oh, just a bit of a secrecy spell, a confidentiality spell and a little spell I invented to filter out any imposters,’ Hermione said casually. ‘You have nothing to worry about, I assure you’.

Draco looked at her with admiration.

‘Somehow, I have no trouble believing that,’ he said.

Luc and Harry exchanged a look and grinned. Draco looked up at the sound, looking at Harry for the first time since he’d walked into the ballroom. Harry’s breath caught at the odd, intense look in Draco’s silvery eyes. Harry stared hard, trying to identify that look, but was unfortunately interrupted by Hermione.

‘Come on Draco, time to open up the floo,’ Hermione announced.

Five minutes later, the first guests appeared in the enormous black marble fireplace. Hermione stepped forward and welcomed them.

‘These are Mr and Mrs Shaw. They took over Ollivander’s wand shop when he retired two years ago,’ Hermione introduced them.

Draco welcomed them officially and asked them to take a seat. After that, the floo lit up again and again as new guests flooded in. Harry was pleased to greet some familiar faces such as Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnegan, Lavender Brown and the Patil twins. They didn’t have time for more than pleased exclamations, a quick hug and a promise to catch up later, before the next set of guests arrived. Harry felt Draco stiffen beside him as Blaise Zabini stepped out of the floo, followed closely by an elegant looking Pansy Parkinson. The tall wizard rushed forward and enveloped Draco in a tight hug.

‘Draco,’ he croaked happily. ‘Merlin am I glad to see you’re alright! You had us so worried…’

Draco looked shocked for a moment, but then wrapped his arms around Zabini and squeezed back tentatively. Harry found himself not at all pleased to be witness to this particular fond little reunion. The hug lasted entirely too long in Harry’s opinion. He glared at Zabini’s back, silently willing him to let the fuck go already. 

‘Oy! Stop hogging Draco you big brute!’ Parkinson huffed, shoving Zabini playfully. Harry liked her already.

‘Sorry love, come here’. Zabini opened his arms and Parkinson slid in to make it a group hug. Maybe she wasn’t that nice after all, Harry thought suspiciously.

Draco pulled back a little bit to look at his two old friends.

‘She make an honest man of you yet?’ he asked lightly.

‘That she did mate, that she did,’ Zabini responded, letting go of his friend and kissing his wife fondly. 

Harry heaved a sigh of relief, which made Draco look at him oddly. Draco opened his mouth to make a comment, but Hermione cut in, introducing the next guests.

‘We’ll talk later darling,’ Parkinson said. She gave Draco a quick peck before being escorted off by her handsome husband. 

Looking at the -obviously in love- pair, Harry decided they were both quite nice after all.

Harry was busy greeting guest after guest, some familiar, most not. The ballroom was filling up nicely. The Weasley clan were the last to arrive.

‘Harry!’ 

The exclamation and a blur of red was all the warning Harry had before being almost smothered in multiple Weasley hugs. They were all there, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill and his wife Fleur, George, Charlie and his girlfriend Joanne, Ginny… They were all there except for Percy of course, who had been estranged from the family for years and Ron who Harry knew was looking after the children. Hermione had assured them that Ron was most definitely on board and they’d be meeting up with him later in the week. 

Harry was startled to find Dean Thomas there, who turned out to be Ginny’s fiancée no less. He remembered seeing the former Gryffindor’s name in an article about the Bald Eagle Society. Dean noticed his old friend’s quizzical look, thumped him on the back and mouthed _Later_ with a wink. Harry was a bit nervous to speak with Ginny again after so long. He was relieved to find both Luc and Draco flanking him instantly as he faced his former girlfriend. 

‘Hello Ginny, nice to see you again. You look well,’ Harry stated politely.

Ginny smiled graciously and inclined her head.

‘Thank you Harry, it’s good to see you too,’ she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

Harry was pleased to notice the atmosphere between them was quite placid. Like Harry, she’d obviously long since moved on. Observing her with Dean, Harry thought she looked happy, and he found himself happy for her.

As the Weasleys moved off to find their seats, Hermione cast a Sonorus and cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. All eyes turned in her direction expectantly as she started to speak.

‘On behalf of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter I’d like to welcome you all to Malfoy Manor. As you all know, we’re here to discuss the current political climate in the wizarding world in general and more particularly, the role the “Bald Eagle Society” has continued playing in it’.

Harry looked around the room as Hermione methodically listed all the ways in which purebloods had been systematically victimised. He saw a lot of solemn faces, all listening intently, sometimes nodding grimly as they heard the familiar charges. They all looked shocked though, as Hermione related what happened to Draco, even if she did so in the most delicate of terms. Harry stole a quick glance at the blond, only to see him stand tall and face the room stoically. 

‘All of you have been involved in either small acts of rebellion against the ministry, the Bald Eagle Society and its followers. Unfortunately, you have been unsure before of just who you could trust, making it difficult to ally yourselves and together make a bigger impact. From now on, this will change,’ Hermione stated, her voice clear and determined.

‘Look around you. There are almost 150 Wizards and Witches here, from every part of Wizarding society. _These_ are your allies. All of you have made a difference already. Mr and Mrs Shaw here, have been secretly supplying purebloods with a wand when they had none’.

The Shaws flushed and looked equally embarrassed and pleased at the sudden attention. Hermione went on.

‘Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson have made part of their estate in Italy into a refuge for Wizards and Witches who needed to flee England. They have a little network going with the Phillpots and the Baddocks handling things on the English side. Musidora Baddock was in fact heading for Malfoy Manor just as soon as they heard about Draco being released from house arrest. Unfortunately she came too late to prevent the kidnapping’.

Draco turned to Blaise and Pansy in surprise. Both smiled warmly at their friend, but a look of regret was clear in their eyes. Harry was sure they would have given anything to spare the blond his ordeal. Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and squeezed it softly before releasing it. Draco looked at him for a moment, gave him a small smile and then turned his attention back to Hermione. 

She’d been listing the various acts of resistance that the assembled Witches and Wizards had engaged in. It turned out Neville had been collaborating with Seamus in handing out food parcels and small sums of money to those who needed it. Neville flushed hot pink, all the way to the tips of his ears as Hermione talked about his efforts. 

The Weasleys had been the most open in their resistance, helping to gather evidence for appeals and advocating better treatment of purebloods through official channels. The engagement between Ginny and Dean had to remain a secret, as Dean had been busy trying to infiltrate the Bald Eagle Society. Hermione went silent after that, giving Dean an opportunity to tell them of what he’d learned so far.

‘I’ve been trying to infiltrate their ranks for almost a year now, but progress has been slow. They are very secretive and I’ve only just recently found out the name of their leader. I did hear your name mentioned several times Draco, and it worried me. I tried to find out what had happened to you, but they operate on a strictly need-to-know basis’. Dean faced Draco and said: ‘I’m sorry Draco, I realise I should have tried harder. I knew they were bad, but to be honest, I didn’t realise they’d go this far…’

Draco swallowed.

‘You couldn’t have,’ Draco said curtly. But then he gave the former Gryffindor a quick smile and continued: ‘Thank you for trying though. You too Pansy, Blaise… I- I didn’t realise people had… Tried I mean. For me. Thank you…’

Harry shivered as he saw the look of vulnerability flash over Draco’s beautiful features. Hermione, noticing Draco’s discomfort, smoothly took over.

‘Recently Dean has been making some progress. On my suggestion, he let Harry’s name drop with one of the more influential members. They were very interested to find that Dean and Harry used to be friends,’ Hermione continued with an apologetic glance at her friend. 

Harry scowled. She could have told him this before the meeting, couldn’t she? Not that he wouldn’t do anything to help Draco. Or the other purebloods of course, Harry thought quickly. He gave Hermione a small nod, encouraging her to continue.

‘I have developed a plan that I am confident will succeed. As you can all plainly see around you, there is much more resistance to the system then you could have imagined. This is only the tip of the iceberg. You all have been active, actually _doing something_ to make things better. For every one of you, there are at least ten Wizards and Witches that have been dissatisfied with the way Muggleborns have been promoted and Purebloods discriminated against. They’ve been passive so far, but all they need is a little push’.

Harry fidgeted with his robes uncomfortably, well aware of the fact that until recently, he’d been one of those Wizards. 

‘Our resistance will only work, if we go out in the open. This is the only way that other Wizards and Witches will dare to speak out, choose our side openly and defy the ministry. We will however need to set up our plan carefully, making sure everything is set up perfectly before our first public move. I will tell you more about these plans and everyone’s roles in them, after lunch. I have the big plan outlined clearly, but the details need filling in. I am counting on all of you for input on that,’ Hermione concluded.

Draco stepped up and took the floor.

‘Lunch is served. Please take this opportunity to eat drink and mingle. It would be good if you got to know each other a little better. We have a lot of work ahead of us, work we’ll have to do together. Now, please enjoy your meal’.

Draco snapped his fingers and delicious looking plates of food appeared. House elves apparated in to hand out drinks. Draco smiled smugly at Hermione as people started piling the delicious food on plates, all but ignoring the modest plate of sandwiches at the very end of the buffet. 

‘Oh shut up!’ Hermione muttered darkly.

Draco widened his eyes in mock innocence and replied: ‘I didn’t say a word!’

Draco looked positively gleeful as Hermione stalked off in a huff to go talk to the Weasleys. Harry would have liked to stay right there and talk to Draco for a bit, but the blond was hauled off by Parkinson a second later, right before he himself was crowded by a flock of former Gryffindors. Harry eyed the striking Wizard wistfully, before turning back to catch up with his friends.

 


	12. Tension

‘That was… impressive... I still have no idea how you found all those people,’ Draco said.

Hermione beamed.

‘Thanks Draco. It wasn’t that hard really. All we had to do was know who to ask and then ask them the right questions. My staff has developed kind of a knack for these things over the years,’ Hermione explained.

Harry eyed his friend suspiciously. 

‘A knack for these things? And how, I wonder, would they have picked up something like that?’

‘You know as well as I do that my boss is utterly hopeless,’ Hermione said. ‘From the very beginning, it’s been clear that if something needed to be done, it will have to be me that did it. So when Quigly put me in charge of the hiring and firing along with everything else, I made damn sure to choose people who were not only competent and discreet but also absolutely loyal to me’.

‘I’m extremely glad to not be on opposite sides Mademoiselle Granger. You would make a formidable opponent indeed,’ Luc said with newfound respect.

Draco watched Hermione with a thoughtful expression.

‘How do we think the meeting went today?’ Draco asked, in a clear attempt to change the subject.

Hermione, grateful for the change of topic, answered: ‘I think it went very well. There were some really good ideas out there I must say. I’m still not convinced about involving Rita Skeeter in this though …’

Hermione worried her bottom lip as she looked across the room for reassurance. 

‘Don’t worry Hermione. If Neville thinks we can trust her, I’m sure we can. And besides, you know a spell or two to keep her in line if need be, don’t you?’ Harry soothed her anxiety.

Hermione nodded, looking relieved.

‘You’re right Harry. Now let’s see… We’ll all meet with Pansy and Blaise in the morning, then in the afternoon there’s the meetings with the Bagnolds and the other pureblood families after that’. Hermione turned to face Draco and continued: ‘I think you’ll need to take the lead there Draco. They’ll trust you before they trust any of us’.

Draco nodded, but Harry wasn’t convinced.

‘But how do we know that _we_ can trust _them_?’ Harry insisted.

Draco made an impatient movement with his hand to quieten Harry.

‘Oh do shut up Harry. We’ve just established that Hermione here is more than capable of setting up security measures and keeping our little movement secure. Don’t start questioning her now,’ Draco sneered. 

Harry bristled.

‘Well excuse me for caring about keeping you and your whereabouts safe from the people who abducted you and kept you prisoner for months.’ Harry replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Draco just raised an eyebrow at him and turned back to Hermione, encouraging her to continue. Hermione looked at both of them uncertainly, shared a quick look with Luc and then picked up where she left off.

‘Tomorrow night we should use to prepare for the meeting Dean will try and set up for Wednesday. Sorry for springing that on you by the way Harry, but I’m afraid we’re going to need you to get anywhere with those lunatics that call themselves “The Bald Eagle Society”. Dean hasn’t been getting anywhere with them and not for lack of trying, I assure you…’ Hermione said grimly.

‘It’s alright Hermione. I came here to do my bit, and if that’s what needs doing, I’ll do it,’ Harry assured her.

Hermione smiled at him gratefully while Draco mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “Our Hero”.

‘While you and Luc are at the meeting, Draco and I will be at the Shaws’, providing wands for the purebloods that don’t yet have one’, Hermione ticked off her list.  ‘Thursday Draco and Harry will meet up with Skeeter and Luc and I will take the purebloods to Timothy Bletchly’s house. Neville and Seamus will meet us there. The purebloods will be provided with some Muggle clothing from Timothy and some provisions from Neville and Seamus. We need all of them to be ready to fight when we make our move’. 

‘And Thursday evening, the highlight of my week obviously, we’re all invited to the Weasel’s house for dinner. Oh joy. I can hardly wait,’ Draco simpered. 

‘Behave Draco,’ Hermione warned.

‘It’ll be fine,’ Harry assured him.

Draco shot him a contemptuous look.

‘Easy for you to say, isn’t it. He’s your friend, while I’m the one he hurled insults at when I saw him last’. Draco sighed dramatically. ‘Oh well, I suppose I’ll just have to suffer it’.

Harry grinned.

‘As I recall, it was _you_ actually that called _his_ family “a piss-poor-breeding-like-rabbits-hideously-ginger-haired-bunch of blood traitors”. Does that sound familiar at all?’ Harry asked neatly.

Harry expected Draco to laugh. He expected Draco to tell him to piss off or put him in his place with a snide remark. But all he got was a frosty glare before being completely ignored.

That just about did it. Harry had had _enough_. During the meeting Draco had been studiously ignoring him, but Harry knew the blond was watching him whenever his back was turned. After the meeting, the four of them had retired to the Garden Room to discuss their next step. _Again_ Harry had been mostly ignored, except for when the blond seemed to be purposefully needling him. Draco had sighed excessively when Harry asked Hermione to explain something for a second time. He’d complained loudly when Harry nibbled on some salty crackers, saying that his chewing sounds where near deafening. For some reason, Harry seemed to rub Draco up the wrong way tonight. Harry had no idea why, but he was determined to find out. 

‘What the fuck is your problem Draco,’ he exclaimed when the blond shot him another glare for, oh whatever, breathing too loudly perhaps?

Draco looked at him coldly.

‘ _You_ are Potter. _You’re_ my problem,’ Draco shot back vehemently.

‘Why? What the hell have I done this time? And why are you back to calling me Potter anyway?’ Harry asked angrily.

‘Because you’re annoying me that’s why. Now be quiet _Harry_ , I want to hear the rest of the plans. To some of us, this is actually important you know,’ Draco sneered.

Harry could feel his temper rising at the unjust remarks.

‘Fuck you Draco! This is important to me too and you know it! Now why don’t you just…’ 

‘Boys, boys…’ Luc interrupted soothingly. ‘Let’s not get carried away here. It’s been a long and exhausting day and we’re all feeling rather tired. Let’s just calm down and listen to the always lovely Mademoiselle Granger here’.

Harry nodded and shot Hermione an apologetic glance.

Draco just turned away from Harry, crossed his arms and stared at Hermione pointedly.

‘Right… well…’ Hermione hesitated, clearing her throat. ‘Where was I? Oh yes, Friday… Friday we’ll have meetings with the Patil twins, Charlie and Bill Weasley, Mister Turner and Violet King. They’ll be able to bring us up to speed with the latest information from their various sources. Monday we’ll meet up with the whole group again. We’ll use the weekend to prepare for it’. 

‘Good, good…’ Draco said thoughtfully. He leaned back in his chair, half closed his eyes and asked lazily: ‘Now Hermione… why don’t you tell us the rest of your little plan? Hmmm?’

Hermione visibly startled.

‘I… I don’t know what you mean,’ she said uncertainly.

Draco slumped back further and smiled. Harry straightened up and looked back and forth between his friends. He couldn’t decide where to look. On the one end, there was Hermione. After watching her carefully, Harry decided that Draco was most definitely right. She _was_ hiding something. He would have to find out exactly what that was…

But then there was Draco… Harry almost groaned as he watched the blond’s languid pose. Draco was wearing faded jeans that were snug in all the right places. His tight fitted white t-shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a tiny sliver of creamy-white skin. A tress of sleek golden blond hair fell across his face. Harry ground his teeth together and practically sat on his hands to stop himself from gently pushing back the lock of hair, curling it behind one of those delicate looking ears.

Draco sat next to him on the large sofa. It was large enough for them to both sit on without touching, but close enough that if he just reached out he could…

‘… Harry. I think he has a right to know don’t you?’

Harry startled. Fuck, why did he have to keep doing that! Slightly disorientated, he looked around to see all his friends looking back at him. Draco looked at him with his trademark smirk. Luc bit his bottom lip to hide a smile as he quickly looked away. And Hermione… Wait a minute… Hermione looked very shifty indeed. Harry leaned forward and fixed the witch a searching stare.

‘What’s going on Hermione. What are you not telling me?’ he asked cautiously.

Hermione opened and closed her mouth as if to speak, but no actual words came out.

‘I would say,’ Draco started, ‘that Hermione here has set her eyes quite a bit higher than she lets on’.

Hermione flushed deep crimson and wrung her hands guiltily.

‘Hermione? Is that true?’ Harry asked.

‘I… well… yes, I suppose it is,’ she finally said.

‘Then why don’t you share it with the rest of us Mademoiselle Granger? Is there some reason you feel we can’t be trusted with this obviously sensitive information?’ Luc asked pointedly. 

Harry had never seen the French Wizard this stern before. Luc was always kind and mild mannered, especially where Hermione was concerned. But now he looked very serious indeed as he waited for Hermione to answer.

But it was Draco that responded first. He suddenly leaned forward and said: ’Let me take a wild guess here. I’d say… that our dear Hermione is planning to go after the big man himself. The one and only Mister Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. Am I right?’

The room grew eerily quiet for a moment. So quiet, that the softly spoken words almost sounded like a bellow. 

‘Yes. Yes I am’.

Hermione looked at Draco with a set jaw and defiant eyes. A triumphant look flashed over Draco’s face before he schooled his features into cool aloofness once more. Harry shook his head in disbelief.

‘Seriously Hermione? You’re planning to take down Scrimgeour? Are you sure about this?’ Harry asked.

Hermione turned her gaze in Harry’s direction and answered: ‘I am Harry. Come on, you’ve said it yourself. As long as Scrimgeour is in office, nothing will ever change. Not really’.

Harry thought about it for a moment and quickly decided that Hermione was in fact right. Harry hadn’t been fond of Fudge, the previous Minister of Magic, but Scrimgeour was ten times worse. Fudge had been a fool, whereas Scrimgeour was… dangerous. He was smart and cunning, always planning at last two steps ahead. As far as Harry knew, no one had seriously challenged the Minister since he’d taken over from Fudge. _Well_ , Harry thought, _that’s all about to change now…_

‘Scrimgeour is a nightmare. If you have a plan to oust him and perhaps take over as Minister yourself, I’m all for it. And I’ll support you in any way I can,’ Harry stated firmly. 

Hermione smiled gratefully.

‘Thanks Harry, I knew I could count on you. In fact I…’

‘Oho, here it comes,’ Draco exclaimed.

‘…wasn’t going to say anything tonight, because I wanted to speak about this with you privately,’ Hermione continued, ignoring Draco completely.

‘Oh just spit it out Granger,’ Draco said impatiently.

Harry shot the blond a reproachful look and smiled kindly at Hermione.

‘What is it Hermione? Do you need me to be a part of this somehow?’ he enquired. 

‘You could say that again,’ Draco snorted. ‘Haven’t you figured it out yet Harry? Hermione isn’t running for Minister. _You_ are’. 

Ah. Harry had been wondering when the nausea would make a comeback…

‘Say what now?’ he managed to ask, determinedly swallowing back the bile in his throat. He meant to ask that calmly, but it came out more like a squeak than anything else.

‘You. For Minister of Magic. “Hello Sir, Madam, remember me? Harry Potter, the boy who singlehandedly saved the world from Voldemort at least twice? Yes? Oh good. You see, I’m running for Minister of Magic now, and I was wondering if I could count on your support? I can? Wonderful, wonderful. Splendid and all that”.  You know, that sort of thing?’ Draco ended his little speech.

Harry looked at Hermione desperately.

‘You can’t be serious Hermione? You’re not are you? Hermione?’ Harry pleaded.

 

* * *

 

Apparently, she was. All through dinner she kept talking to him, trying to convince him to be part of her insane little plan. She would be there for him, she said. She’d quit her job and run his campaign for him, strategise for him. Be at his side at all times. She was sure he could do it, that he _should_ do it, that only his name would be enough to pose a real threat to Scrimgeour and his cronies… 

Harry was too much in shock to make any kind of coherent reply. He had just let Hermione talk, only half listening to her, meanwhile trying to suppress the panic he could feel rising steadily up inside of him.

Harry run for Minister of Magic? What the hell was Hermione thinking? He’d be awful, just… awful… If the thought alone could make him feel sick, how would he feel when he’d actually have to _do_ the job? Lead the ministry? Negotiate with the Wizengamot? Make a speech? Be a…

‘Oh for fuck’s sake, will you stop the bloody brooding already?’ 

Harry looked up at the irritated blond with confusion. When he’d finally made his escape, wishing everyone a good night, he hadn’t noticed Draco following him.

‘What? Brooding? I’m just worried, that’s all,’ Harry responded lamely.

‘That much is obvious. Really though, I thought you said you were ready to do your bit?’ Draco challenged him.

‘Well yes, but Hermione wants me to be Minister! _Minister_ for Merlin’s sake! Has she gone _mad_? I’m the very worst man for the job! I’d be utterly hopeless,’ Harry cried.

‘Yes yes, poor you and all that. Why don’t you just run along, back to France, go and hide under the vines or something? That’ll be… constructive…’ Draco replied, his voice heavy with contempt.

‘Look, I’m totally prepared to fight here, that’s not the problem!’ Harry retorted hotly. ‘It’s just that…’

‘It’s just that _what_ exactly?’ Draco interrupted him with narrowed eyes. ‘Come on Potter, are you just some sort of loser? Scared to get in too deep? Worried the Wizarding world will stop loving their little hero?’

‘No!’ Harry groaned. ‘Stop putting words in my mouth, will you? I just don’t think I’ll be any good at it, that’s all!’

‘So what, that means you’ll actually have to _work_ at it? It’ll be _hard_ , that’s what you’re saying?’ Draco insisted.

‘That’s not…’ Harry tried.

‘What then?’ Draco interrupted.

Harry took a deep breath and tried again.

‘What I’m trying to say here, is that…’

‘Yes? Go on!’ Draco interrupted him yet again.

Harry thought that in that moment, he could feel the little veins pop behind his eyes. Draco was seriously testing his patience and he had reached his absolute limit. Harry’s heart pounded loudly in his ears as he grabbed the blond’s arms, shoved him up against the nearest wall and all but shouted in his face: ‘For the love of Merlin, Godric and Salazar, will you just shut the fuck up for _one_ fucking minute!’ 

Harry’s green eyes met blazing silver ones, staring right back at him full of challenge. Their closeness was distracting Harry, so much so, that he almost missed the blond’s next words.

‘Why don’t you… make me?’ Draco said, eying him speculatively. 

For only a second, Harry froze. And then, insanity took over. Harry could almost feel his brain fly out the window as he moved forward and crashed his lips on Draco’s with a needy moan.

 _What am I doing? What the hell am I doing?_ Harry thought desperately. But when Draco pressed himself into Harry’s body, opening his mouth to deepen their kiss, Harry stopped thinking all together and just… surrendered.

 


	13. Release

‘Ngkmpfgtsskn…’

Harry found it impossible to be coherent. He was aware of nothing but how fucking _good_ he felt right now. How good it felt to finally, _finally_ kiss Draco bloody Malfoy, insufferable git extraordinaire. How wonderful he felt, sliding his tongue up against Draco’s, feel the entire length of the blond’s warm, slender body pressed up tightly against his…

Harry was vaguely aware of the cool solid wall against his back and was mildly puzzled as to how on earth that had happened. Wasn’t it _Harry_ shoving _Draco_ up against that same wall earlier? But when Harry felt firm hands grab hold and determined hips pushed into him, he stopped worrying about silly little things like that.

Harry whimpered softly as soft lips were pulled away from him and Draco stepped back slightly. That was _it_? Harry was _so_ not ok with that! He opened his eyes and was about to inform Draco of just that when he caught sight of the intense look in those smouldering silver eyes. Harry gasped.

‘Oh…’ he said.

Draco smirked. Harry felt his knees weaken and his cock twitch in reaction to that smirk. He grabbed hold of Draco’s shirt to try and pull him closer, but Draco shook his head and stepped back further. Harry could feel his bottom lip protruding into what was undeniably a pout. He flushed a bright red as he saw Draco’s smirk widen and the grey eyes heat up even further.

‘Come with me,’ Draco said, his voice low and slightly breathless. 

Without waiting for a reply, Draco took Harry’s hand and led him further down the hall. 

Harry followed blindly. Draco could have taken him to old Voldemort himself and in that moment, Harry would have gone with him without protest. He let himself be pulled through several doorways and rooms without taking any of them in. Only when he caught a flash of a large bed and a huge, ebony door, did he register that he was in fact in Draco’s bedroom once again. Harry was still focussing on the door, when Draco pulled him in for a kiss and walked him backwards until his knees hit something soft. Harry let himself fall back on what was obviously Draco’s bed. He whimpered softly as the owner of said bed crouched over him and pressed a demanding kiss on eager lips. Harry slipped both hands into sleek, blond locks and groaned in delight as he felt the softness slip between his fingers.

When he felt Draco tug at his shirt, Harry’s first instinct was to obligingly raise his arms to make it easier to slip the garment off. But halfway through the motion he froze. Wait… He shouldn’t be doing this, should he? There was some bizarre reason why it would be a bad idea to get naked right now, wasn’t there? Harry half raised himself on his elbows as he struggled to defog his decidedly muddled brain. 

‘What?!’ Draco complained as his efforts to undress Harry were thwarted. 

Harry startled at the blond’s irritation.

‘I… I don’t know. I’m… not sure… I…’ he stuttered awkwardly.

Oh Merlin there was that positively wicked smirk again. Combined with the slightly dishevelled blond hair, the soft pink flush and the shiny silver eyes, it was enough to knock Harry right off his feet. If he hadn’t been lying flat on his back already that was.

‘So…’ Draco purred, ‘is that what this is? You need a little more… persuasion?’

Harry moaned and threw back his head in surrender as skilful lips started to trace a path down his neck to his collarbone. 

‘You like that?’ Draco breathed against Harry’s skin.

Harry shivered and felt his erection strain painfully against the confinement of his jeans.

‘Yes…’ he gasped.

Harry could feel the soft lips curl up slightly against his oversensitive skin. 

‘What about this?’ Draco whispered hot breath against his ear as he slipped a leg between Harry’s and pushed their still clothed erections firmly together.

‘Merlin yes!’ Harry cried.

Draco pressed a quick kiss on his lips and then tugged at Harry’s shirt.

‘Want me to take this off now?’ 

Harry nodded vigorously and flung his arms over his head.

Draco did not hesitate. He pulled Harry’s shirt over his head with a quick movement and slung it away from them. Draco’s own shirt followed quickly and they both moaned heavily as naked skin met naked skin.

Harry couldn’t _think_. His chest was heaving with the effort of breathing and his heart pounded in an almost deafening beat. He felt like he was drowning, revelling in the feeling of Draco’s mouth kissing, sucking, licking, _biting_ every part of Harry’s chest. Draco’s kisses and little nips were a bit on the rough side and Harry found he did not mind that at all. He was being effectively pinned down and ravished by the blond. This was nothing, _nothing_ , like the (admittedly limited) sexual experiences he’d had before. Those had been nice enough, but utterly forgettable when compared to _this_.

Draco’s tongue was turning slow circles around Harry’s nipple, driving Harry insane. Harry arched his back, pushing himself closer to that teasing mouth and bit his lip as Draco not so gently nipped at the pink nub. 

‘Fuck Draco!’ Harry managed throatily. 

Draco abruptly looked up at him and raised an enquiring eyebrow.

‘That what you want Harry? Want me to fuck you?’ he asked, his voice heavy with lust.

Harry’s eyes widened. His hands clenched down on the blond’s hips as he tried with all his might to _think_ about this for a minute. Harry would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this happening many, many times. But every time he had thought about what two men would actually _do_ together in a situation like this, he’d freaked out and had tried to think of something else. The truth was, that part of him was desperate for Draco to hold him down and fuck him. A big part actually. Harry couldn’t help but be a little bit worried though. Wouldn’t it _hurt_? 

The moment Harry realised he was squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he opened them, ready to voice his doubts. The sight of Draco’s face hovering over him, took his breath away. There was a fierce hunger in those beautiful grey eyes, but that hunger couldn’t disguise the hint of uncertainty lurking underneath. 

Harry felt a sudden warmth flood him and smiled generously. A tiny flash of relief was all he got to see before his lips were claimed once again and sure hands were unfastening the buttons of his jeans. Harry’s own hands were trembling slightly as he fought to release Draco of his remaining clothes. 

With a frustrated growl, Draco pulled back and sat up. It took Harry’s foggy brain a while to realise that Draco was pulling Harry’s shoes and socks off in swift movements, before finally yanking Harry’s jeans and pants down with a triumphant cry. Draco got started on his own shoes after that, while Harry managed to slip the leather belt out of his belt loops and started struggling with the buttons. Together, they finally managed to get rid of the annoying last items of clothing. Harry’s breathless laugh turned into a heavy moan as Draco straddled his legs and pushed their straining erections together. 

It was like nothing Harry had ever experienced before. It felt good, so good, so fucking _right_ … Harry had never been more sure of anything in his life. He wanted this, he wanted Draco and he wanted him _now_. Harry wiggled his way out from underneath Draco and slung an arm over the edge of the bed. Without his glasses, which had been discarded somewhere between one passionate kiss and the next, it took him a while to find his wand within the pile of clothes beside the bed.

‘Aha!’ he cried out triumphantly as he showed the elusive wand to an amused looking Draco. 

‘Come here you…’ Draco commended mock sternly as he tugged at Harry’s hand, unbalancing him. Harry yelped as he toppled all over the blond, who was looking mighty pleased with himself. As Draco opened his mouth to no doubt make another scathing remark, Harry took action and quickly seized his mouth in a searing kiss. 

Tongues danced wildly together as hands went exploring new territory. Harry marvelled in the differences he could feel in Draco’s, now healthy again, body. The skin was no longer marred with scabs and bruises, but soft, pale and silky smooth. The angles of his body were less pointy, the curves dipping and flowing easily. Harry wanted to follow the lines of Draco’s body, travel down them, discover them with his fingers… He sat up and looked at the blond lying underneath him. God he looked beautiful like this… His golden blond hair a complete mess, his lips slightly swollen from multiple kisses and the skin of his naked body flushed pink and covered in tiny goose bumps. Harry groaned and started following his roaming hands with his mouth, pressing urgent, heated kisses on every piece of skin he could reach. He flicked his tongue at both nipples, repeating the motion as he felt Draco shudder underneath his touch. Harry stroked the almost invisible blond hair covering parts of Draco’s skin. He let his hands slide down Draco’s legs and then up again along his inner thighs. As Harry’s hands snuck up higher and higher, Draco made a keening sound and pushed his hips off the bed in a silent plea for more. Harry hesitated for only an instant before closing a cautious hand around the blond’s straining erection. He moved his hand up and down the shaft experimentally, his strokes becoming bolder as he watched Draco come undone.

‘Harry… Oh god yes, please… just… please…’ Draco moaned, writhing underneath him. 

Harry couldn’t keep his eyes away from the awe inspiring sight. He drank it all in. The way Draco bit down hard on his bottom lip when Harry tugged gently at his balls. The way he threw his head back and cried as Harry slid his thumb over the head of Draco’s cock. The way his eyes widened as Harry lowered his head until his mouth hovered over Draco’s already leaking cock… Was he really going to… 

‘Please… oh please…’ Draco pleaded urgently.

Oh _hell yes_ he was going to. Harry closed a hand round the base of Draco’s cock and slowly lowered his mouth, taking in as much of the length as he could. 

Ok… so that felt… weird, Harry considered. Not bad though, he decided, especially when he felt Draco squirm underneath him. Draco’s breath came in quick, shallow gulps and his hands were clawing into the white sheets underneath him. As Harry licked a slow stripe along the thick vein of Draco’s cock the blond whimpered helplessly and flung his head from side to side. Harry wondered what would happen if he were to… 

‘Oh… Harry… God, don’t stop, don’t… oh…’

Slender fingers were entwined in Harry’s messy hair and he could feel himself being pulled down, further down… The constant little cries and whimpering were reassuring Harry that whatever he was doing, he was doing a damn fine job of it. He alternately sucked down hard, swirled his tongue around the tip of Draco’s quivering cock and then lapped with big strokes, flattening his tongue to touch as much of the hot skin as he possibly could.

‘Harry, I think I’m going to…’ Draco gasped hurriedly.

But it was alright, because Harry had accurately read the warning signs of tightening hands in his hair and the insistent bucking of hips. He pulled back his mouth and replaced it with one of his hands rapidly. With his other hand, Harry grabbed hold of his own throbbing cock and started stroking furiously. A couple of strokes were all it took and soon Harry let out a hoarse cry as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Only seconds later, Draco followed, biting his lip so harshly it bled as his body convulsed in the spasms of his release.

Their eyes locked as they both struggled to get their breath back under control. Harry became aware of a wet stickiness covering his hand and lifted it up to his mouth without thinking. Draco’s eyes went impossibly wide as he watched Harry lap up every last drop of the thick white substance. Seeing the blond’s reaction, Harry took his time, swirling his tongue in suggestive movements as he kept up the intense eye contact. Ok, so it didn’t exactly taste delicious. Draco following his every move with eager eyes more than made up for the taste in Harry’s opinion though. 

As soon as Harry was done, Draco groaned and pulled him in for a desperate snog that left them both gasping for air. With a sudden move, Draco flipped them both over, turned Harry on his stomach and straddled the back of his thighs. Harry didn’t know what hit him as he felt a soft kiss against the back of his neck and then Draco’s tongue marking a wet stripe down Harry’s spine. Harry’s heart was thumping in his throat, both scared and excited to find out where this was leading. It was leading down as it turned out, all the way down, not stopping where his back ended and his arse began.

‘What are you doing?’ Harry asked in what sounded suspiciously like a squeak. 

‘Shush…’ was Draco’s only response, before making Harry yelp by circling his tongue slowly around Harry’s hole.

‘Fuck Draco… Fuck…’

‘Not yet. In a minute…’ came the distracted response.

Harry shivered all over as Draco worked his tongue, driving him to the edge of insanity. He couldn’t believe how hard he was, so soon after that spectacular orgasm. Draco’s tongue flicked, circled and then stabbed inside him, over and over again. Harry couldn’t stop moaning, uttering a long string of incoherent words: ‘Yes, yes, oh god yes, so good, so so goooood…’ He pushed up, shoving himself back shamelessly into Draco’s skilful mouth.

Harry whined in protest as the delicious tongue was withdrawn. He turned to shoot an accusing glare at his blond tormentor. Draco scrambled around the bed, looking for and finally finding the discarded wand somewhere half hidden under the pillows. Harry, taking advantage of his sudden freedom, turned on his back and watched Draco mutter a spell that left a clear, slick substance on Draco’s fingers. Without a word, Draco moved in between Harry’s legs and pushed them up against Harry’s chest. Helplessly, Harry let him, looking up at Draco anxiously. 

‘It’s alright,’ Draco assured him, pressing a gentle kiss on the tip of Harry’s nose.

Harry couldn’t help but tense as he felt Draco’s finger slip in slowly.

‘It’s alright,’ Draco repeated. ‘Try and relax. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise’. 

Harry nodded and tried to follow the blond’s advice. Truth be told, it _did_ hurt, but only a little bit. Carefully, Draco slid his finger in further and then added another.

Oh. Now that didn’t feel half bad really… Harry wriggled his hips experimentally and gasped as the fingers slid in deeper and hit some brilliant spot he never knew he had. Draco immediately started to move his fingers in and out, angling them so they hit that delicious spot over and over again.

Harry was lost. All he could do was give into the new, thrilling sensations and drink in the sight of a dishevelled Draco looking down on him with ravenous eyes. Harry wanted Draco to go on for ever, never stop, _never_ stop, surely _nothing_ could be better than this…

Harry felt strangely empty as fingers slipped out of him, but the fingers were soon replaced by something much larger, nudging against his now loose and ready entrance. Harry’s breath quickened in anticipation as Draco looked down on him, seemingly waiting for some sort of sign. Harry felt bluntness would work best here, so he just came out and said it.

‘Fuck me. Please…’ Harry groaned heavily.

And that’s just what Draco did.

 _So this is what it is like_ , Harry thought, just before he lost himself in the moment. Draco’s cock was sliding into him, maddeningly slow at first. But Harry was having none of that. He grabbed on to Draco’s hips and tilted himself up to meet Draco’s every thrust. The adjusted angle made it easier for Draco to nudge that wonderful spot inside of him and Harry was vaguely aware of demanding more, faster, harder… 

Draco complied with his every demand eagerly. He pounded into Harry, ever faster. He was on his knees, using one hand to keep himself steady and the other to drive Harry further up the road to insanity. He felt ready to burst as Draco’s unrelenting cock thrust into him again and again while Draco’s hand slid up and down Harry’s throbbing erection in the same frantic rhythm. 

He wanted to hold out. He wanted it to last and last and last, but he was too much caught up in the devastating storm of new and exciting feelings. He opened his mouth in a silent cry as he came, convulsing heavily in Draco’s hand. Harry was reduced to a boneless heap of limbs as Draco thrust into him one, two, three more times before he himself was gripped by a toe curling climax. Panting, Draco collapsed on top of him, his cock still buried firmly in Harry’s arse.

Harry thought he should probably move right now. He blinked heavily, trying to hold onto consciousness. He’d never felt this satisfied, this _relaxed_ and he just couldn’t be bothered. Surely it would be alright to close his eyes for one minute? What was the harm in that? Just one minute, Harry thought, as he slipped in the depth of unconsciousness…

 


	14. The letter

Harry slowly blinked himself into consciousness. He stretched luxuriously, feeling quite pleased with himself. It took him a minute to remember why.

Oh… Draco… They’d… Harry flushed a bright red. Oh yes they had. Now that he was fully awake, the memories came back to him with perfect clarity. He didn’t need the slight pain in his muscles or the dull ache… down there, to remind him. Harry’s flush intensified. He stole a quick glance at the pillow next to him. 

Empty. Harry bit his lip in confusion. Where _was_ Draco? Squinting round the room it was clear, even without the aid of his glasses, that Harry was quite alone. He did spot said glasses though, placed neatly on the nightstand right next to his wand. Putting them on, Harry checked the room one last time, just to be sure. No sign of Draco. What was he supposed to make of that? 

Clothes. He would need some clothes first. No wait, shower, _then_ clothes, Harry amended as he assessed last night’s damage with a grimace. Wow, he could flush even deeper…. _Who knew?_ Harry thought wryly. Spotting his clothes placed neatly on the chair next to the bed, Harry grabbed them and slipped through the ebony door. He glanced at the Muggle alarm clock in passing. _Fuck_. That couldn’t be right, could it? He quickly cast a tempus charm to check. Half twelve already… How on earth had that happened? At least it explained one thing. Draco wasn’t here because he was with Hermione and Luc, meeting Parkinson and Zabini. Like Harry was supposed to be himself. _Shit_.

Harry rushed through his shower, threw on jeans, a shirt and some shoes. He decided not to even bother with his hair today and just hurled himself out the door. Now where could they be? Harry was about to go and open doors randomly when he came to a sudden halt. Wait. There was a smarter way of doing this.

‘Krinkey?’ Harry tried, silently congratulating himself as he heard the distinctive pop of the ancient House Elf apparating.

‘Yes Mister Potter Sir?’ the dignified House Elf enquired, bowing low.

‘Er… I was wondering where Draco was?’ Harry asked semi-casually.

‘Master Draco is being up for hours. Master Draco always is being up at a timely hour,’ the House Elf muttered with clear disapproval of Harry’s own lateness. Obviously Krinkey didn’t approve of things as decadent as sleeping in. Harry couldn’t help but wonder what the proper little House Elf would make of the activities Harry and “Master Draco” had been engaged in prior to the oversleeping thing. 

‘… with Master Draco’s friends. They is being in the gardens now,’ Krinkey finished his little speech.

‘Draco’s in the gardens with Parkinson and Zabini?’ Harry checked, having missed part of the Elf’s words. ‘Are Hermione and Luc with him?’

Krinkey nodded primly.

‘Right. Thank you Krinkey,’ Harry said, already moving towards the gardens. 

As Harry stepped outside, he couldn’t help but admire the beautiful scenery. There was the main garden, so large it was more like a little park, that was beautifully kept. But it were the smaller, secluded areas, that really grabbed Harry’s attention. They looked like they could have modelled for an impressionist painting from every angle.There  were about 5 of them, each with a very different feel to them but all abundantly full of flowers in bloom. 

The first secluded garden Harry entered was filled with only white flowers. Harry inhaled their sweet aroma as he looked at the wooden bench underneath the ancient oak tree in the middle of the garden and smiled. He could feel himself relax already, the atmosphere of the place too tranquil to remain tense. As there was no sign of Draco or anyone else for that matter, Harry stepped through an archway leading into the next garden. This one was filled with herbs, vegetables and what Harry recognised as plants that were used for most common potions. 

Harry looked up at the faint sound of voices, coming from behind the west wall. He hastily made his way to the door that already stood ajar and stepped into a garden that could only be described as brimful of colour. There were pinks, reds, violets, yellows… Basically every colour a flower could come in. And right smack damn in the middle of all that colourful abundance was Draco… Well, Draco and the rest of them of course. They were sitting on a huge blanket, covering the grass underneath. The Elf Harry remembered being called Floppy, Flopsey? Something like that, was setting up plates, napkins, glasses and such as little Poppin hovered over a picnic basket, overstuffed with all kinds of delicious looking foods.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off Draco. The blond looked… stunning. He was wearing a pair of simple black trousers and a soft grey long sleeved shirt. Draco was the first of the group to notice Harry. He looked up and fixed Harry with clouded grey eyes that betrayed nothing and made Harry’s insides squirm uncomfortably. 

‘Potter. Finally saw fit to join us, did you?’

Harry tore his eyes away from hypnotising grey ones, and focussed on a smirking Parkinson instead. 

‘Hello Pansy. Blaise,’ Harry greeted them, nodding a quick hello to Luc and Hermione.

A flicker of surprise showed in almost black eyes, but was quickly covered by a warm smile.

‘Harry. Had a good rest did you?’ Blaise answered with a grin. 

‘You must have been exhausted Harry,’ Hermione said. ‘I went up to fetch you when you didn’t show up for breakfast, but you didn’t answer. Luc and me knocked and called several times, but there was no response. Finally, Draco here came up and told us to just let you sleep. Are you feeling better now Harry?’

‘Er… yes, much better, thank you. Sorry for being so late,’ Harry answered.

‘That’s alright,’ Luc said. ‘You must have needed it’.

Harry startled. Did Luc… know? His heart pounded in his chest as he searched his friend’s face for any signs. _No_ , Harry decided with a sigh of relief. _No, I don’t think so. Not yet anyway…_

Harry felt a change of subject was overdue. 

‘So… Pansy, Blaise, what have you been up to since Hogwarts?’ he inquired casually. 

 

* * *

 

Harry didn’t get a chance to speak to Draco privately until they had both retired to their respective rooms. He’d been standing in front of the ebony door for what felt like hours, shuffling his feet and anxiously biting his lip. He really wanted to talk to Draco, he did… But what was he going to say? All day, Draco and he had exchanged secret glances that Harry found impossible to read. 

Draco had revealed nothing. The incessant taunting hadn’t made a comeback, thank Merlin. Draco had been perfectly civil, his face schooled into a neutral expression at all times. He didn’t seem angry, or ashamed or happy… He didn’t seem much of anything really. 

Draco had been animated enough while talking to Pansy and Blaise. He’d been courteous and warm to the Bagnolds, who it turned out was the grandson of a previous Minister of Magic, and his wife and children. In fact, Draco had been very kind to most of the purebloods that visited the Manor today, except for the Vablatskys and the Stroulgers, who still seemed to foolishly hold on to their archaic pureblood supremacy beliefs. They had looked to Draco, obviously expecting to find a kindred spirit there, but were soon forced to realise their mistake. The air turned decidedly frosty after that. Stubbornly refusing the offer of food or clothing, they left with their noses held high.

‘Let them go. Good riddance,’ Draco had said vehemently as Hermione made to call them back.

They’d all spend the evening strategising for Harry and Luc’s meeting with the Bald Eagle Society the next day. Harry felt he was prepared as well as could be. Both Hermione and Luc had made many helpful suggestions, but Draco had remained unusually quiet, only making the odd comment or two.

And now here he was, standing before that wretched ebony door. Squaring his shoulders, Harry made up his mind and knocked. There was no response. Harry was about to knock again, when the door suddenly opened to reveal a wary looking Draco on the other side.

‘Harry,’ he said. ‘Come in’. Draco turned, walked back into the room and flopped onto the bed. Lying on his back, still fully clothed, Draco stared at the ceiling.

Unsure if he should join Draco on the bed, Harry dragged over a chair instead and sat down. Neither spoke for quite a while.

Draco sighed and half raised himself, leaning on his elbows.

‘What is it you want Harry?’ he asked quietly.

Harry looked at him confusion.

‘What do you mean what do I want? Don’t you think… we should, you know… talk?’ Harry asked cautiously. After a little think he added: ‘About what happened. Last night I mean?’

‘I suppose,’ Draco conceded.

‘Do you regret what happened?’ Harry asked, so soft it was almost a whisper. God he could kick himself for asking that. He sounded pathetically insecure and knew it.

‘No,’ Draco admitted after a long pause. ‘Do you?’

It was the small quiver of insecurity in Draco’s eyes more than his tense answer that made hope surge up in Harry’s chest.

‘Well?’ Draco asked, alerting Harry to the fact that he hadn’t made an answer yet. 

‘Sorry… No. I don’t. Not at all,’ Harry was quick to reassure him.

The small smile curving Draco’s lips warmed Harry’s heart. Draco didn’t regret it. He didn’t. Harry’s head was reeling with that knowledge, which almost led him to miss Draco’s next words.

‘You should probably read that,’ Draco said carefully, waving his hand in the general direction of the nightstand. The very same one Harry had found his glasses and wand on earlier today. Now there was an envelop lying on top of it. Extending a hand, Harry took it and shook the piece of parchment into his hand. He looked back at the bed and saw that Draco had flopped down on his back again and was decidedly not looking at Harry. 

Draco closed his eyes and said softly: ‘Just read it Harry’.

No longer hesitant, Harry unfolded the parchment and started reading.

_My dearest Draco,_

_This letter was written in hopes that one day you would come looking for it. It pleases me more than I can say to see that apparently, you have._

_I feel the end nearing. I am not sad for that, for I have lived a full life. I loved your Grandmother and your Father very much. He has made a wise choice in your Mother. Unfortunately that wisdom seems to have left him in recent years._

_Your Father has made some unfortunate decisions which I am afraid you will have to suffer the consequences of. I am very sorry for that... I would give anything to change things, but the simple fact is that I am an old man and have run out of time._

_Even now, as little as you are, you are strong dearest Draco. I have every faith that you can survive anything that is yet to come. I know you will grow up to be a fine, wonderful young man, you already show every sign of it._

_What I want for you, more than anything else, is a life and family of your own. The fact that you have come to find this letter, tells me that the “Door of Emmeline” has reappeared. It was named after one of your ancestors, the great Emmeline Malfoy, who was the first member of the Malfoy family the door appeared to back in the 18 th century. It hasn’t appeared for every member of the family mind you, but when it has, it has always brought great joy and happiness. It has deeply connected future husbands and wives, parent and child, or like with us, Grandfather and Grandson._

_I will tell you only this: Whomever you might find on the other end of the “Door of Emmeline”, know that they will be or become an important part of your life, just as you have been in mine. Love them, my dearest Draco, I promise you that you will not regret it._

_With love,_

_Abraxus Malfoy_

Harry stared at the words in front of them, not sure what to make of them, not daring to hope that… In the end, he scrambled up enough courage to look up, only to find Draco looking back at him with intense, silver eyes. 

‘What do you think it means?’ Harry finally asked quietly.

Draco shrugged. 

‘I mean,’ Harry pressed on, ‘obviously we aren’t related, are we. So does that mean…’

Draco just looked at him, not saying a word. 

Harry didn’t seem able to shut himself up. He winced at his own inane babbling as he continued blindly: ‘It could mean many things I suppose, although I can’t think of any just now… So maybe…’

Draco sighed heavily and fixed Harry with a stern glare.

‘Harry, do be quiet. You talk too much, did you know that?’ 

The corners of Draco’s mouth twitched suspiciously as he continued: ‘Now, why don’t you come over here for a minute’.

Draco patted the bed invitingly and quirked an eyebrow in question.

Harry’s heartbeat sped up as Draco’s mouth curled up in a genuine smile, warming the grey of his eyes in a breathtaking way. Not wanting to give the blond a chance to change his mind, Harry quickly got up and made to climb on the bed.

Draco stopped him by raising a commanding hand.

‘Not so fast. Shoes on the bed are a big no no. Off please!’ he demanded.

Harry suppressed a grin and quickly toed off his shoes. But before he could try and join Draco, the blond stopped him once again.

‘On second thought: that shirt looks a bit smudged. Best take that off also. And those jeans… You know what, just take off the lot, just to be on the safe side…,’ Draco finished with a smug little smile.

Harry vowed to snog that smile off quick smart. Just as soon as he could get those stubborn jeans off…


	15. The Bald Eagle Society

‘Mister Potter. I’m ever so sorry to have kept you waiting,’ the tall, elegant witch said as she stepped into the room.

 _No you’re not_ , Harry thought. But he smiled a fake smile and accepted the offered handshake anyway. 

Luc and Harry had been kept waiting for half an hour before someone came in to speak with them. There had been many offers of food, drinks, more comfortable chairs and even more apologies for the wait, all as false as this one. Of course when someone _did_ finally come to meet them, Harry knew at once that this was not the person in charge. Reginald Chubb was an imposing Wizard to be sure, but he was certainly not the head of the Bald Eagle Society.

Harry didn’t mind. He’d had Hermione’s help in planning this meeting, and she had correctly predicted the power games being played here today. As planned, Harry had insisted on speaking with the head of the Society only, ignoring all objections.

‘I’m afraid that just won’t be possible Mister Potter. Our leader is frightfully busy you understand’.

‘It is _me_ you want to speak to anyway Sir. I’m the one who handles the more personal side of things’.

‘I regret to tell you that the name of our leader is on a strictly need-to-know basis only. We’ve had some… unfortunate incidents in the past… breaches of confidence, that sort of thing…’

‘Even if I _could_ arrange for a meeting with our illustrious leader Mister Potter, I fear there is no way Mister Martin here could accompany you’. 

Harry just smiled an icy smile and again insisted on speaking with the person in charge only, hinting heavily that he would be leaving if he could not.

‘They’re desperate to enlist you as one of their celebrity members Harry,’ Hermione had pressed upon him last night. ‘They’ll go to any lengths, I know they will. They’ll not _want_ to give in, so it won’t be easy. Just keep persisting Harry. And whatever you do, _don’t back down!_ ’’

Harry wasn’t planning to. Hermione’s words, Luc’s silent support and Harry’s annoyance at waking up alone in Draco’s bed _again_ this morning, were enough to enhance his natural stubborn streak. He was thankful for the subtle glamour Luc had taught him this morning. It would keep anyone but his closest friends and family from reading his true emotions from his face. Harry knew he was much like an open book in that department and needed all the help he could get. He’d got away with conning Greg Campbell out of Malfoy Manor, but these people were in a league of their own…

In the end, Reginald had given up and told them he would need to confer with their leader. Harry smiled graciously and settled in for another long wait. 

Almost 50 minutes later, an unknown wizard (obviously just some flunky) led them down a long corridor to a discreet chamber at the end. It had but one window, which was enchanted to reflect a magical forest made up of every imaginable shade of green. It had a second door and as soon as they sat down and the Wizard had left, the Society’s leader had come through it. She was tall, dark haired with just a touch of grey. The smile on her face did not reach her deep brown, cold eyes. Harry supposed she could be described as beautiful, but her features where too hard to ever be considered pleasant. She would be a dangerous opponent, Harry realised at once. _So Hermione was right_ , Harry thought absently. _The leader of the Bald Eagle Society is indeed a woman. I wonder how she knew that…_

‘I’m sure the pleasure is all mine Madam... I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?’ Harry asked politely, knowing full well that the Witch hadn’t introduced herself yet.

‘Forgive me for the omission,’ the Witch said, smiling easily. ‘My name is Mathilda Walker. I hope they’ve been taking good care of you Mister Potter? And Mister Martin as well I hope?’ 

‘Hmm…’ was Harry’s non-committal reply. ‘Now, Mathilda… may I call you Mathilda?’

Mathilda Walker inclined her head to give her gracious permission.

Harry continued: ‘Alright. Let’s cut to the chase here. I… received your “present” at my residence in France. Allow me to thank you. It’s been most… interesting…’

Harry had to repress a shudder at the sight of Walker’s lips curling in what looked more like a ferocious snarl than the smile it was meant to be. 

‘It pleases me to hear that Harry. My sources were unable to tell me your reactions to our gift. I _did_ hope you would appreciate the gesture,’ she said, dark eyes glinting dangerously.

‘Indeed I did,’ Harry replied, giving her another fake smile.

Harry sat back and waited. He wanted to know if she would ask. If she would dare ask what had happened to Draco. She did not. He could see a flash of annoyance as she realised he would divulge no more, but she said nothing.

‘Now. As delightful as it was to receive such a gift, I must admit to being intrigued by the letter accompanying it. You indicated that you would be pleased to have me join your little Society,’ Harry continued, ignoring another flash of annoyance at the word “little”. ‘You most certainly managed to grab my attention. But before I’d consent to join you, I’m afraid I’d have to learn a lot more about exactly what it is that you _do_ ’.

‘Of course Harry. I should have realised you wouldn’t be aware of all the good work we’ve been doing, with you being away from England for such a long time’. Mathilda looked at him with sincere eyes. _She believes that what she says is true_ , Harry thought, only just managing to repress a repulsed shudder. He looked at her with what he hoped was a bland face and waited for her to continue.

‘As you know, there has been much tension between Purebloods and Muggle borns since the war. Many Muggle borns blamed all Purebloods for Voldemort’s crimes, blamed them, feared them and wanted to punish them. Obviously, we couldn’t let that happen,’ Walker explained with an earnestness that made Harry’s skin crawl. ‘Me and some of my close friends decided we needed to unite and strive to make things better. We did everything in our power to make all Muggle born Witches and Wizards feel both safe and equal at last’.

Walker went on to describe the “charitable acts” Harry had already read about in the Prophet. She droned on and on about the schools for young Muggle born children she had opened all over the country, and the “amazing” results they’d achieved already. Next were the Pureblood wing in St Mungo’s, the efforts to get Muggle borns voted into the Wizengamot and the new unit within the Auror department, specialising in “Pureblood lineage”. Harry could only imagine what that was supposed to be about. He listened carefully, giving her his rapt attention. He knew that was the best way to get her to say more than she intended. It made her feel flattered and proud, more prone to tell him all the details, perhaps even brag a little. 

In the middle of an extensive explanation of something she called “Operation Knockturn Alley”, she was interrupted by a small cough. Both Harry and Walker turned their heads in Luc’s direction, Walker with a look in her eyes that clearly indicated she had forgotten about Luc’s existence and did not appreciate being reminded of it.

‘This all sounds very… noble Madame Walker. I’m sure Harry would have no qualms aligning with a Society that does such good work. But,’ Luc continued delicately, ‘it is our understanding that in some cases, these measures are just not enough. Some Pureblood families have been polluted in a way that can never be cured. I think your generous gift to Harry is proof that you share our way of thinking on this subject, n’est-ce pas?’

Mathilda Walker hesitated for a moment before answering.

‘Yes… well… You see, those activities of the Bald Eagle Society are both delicate and highly confidential. I’m not sure I’m at liberty to divulge much more without discussing it with my… contacts. Much is at stake here Harry, as I’m sure you can appreciate… Perhaps it’s best to not mention this again?’ Walker asked hopefully.

Harry gave her a blinding smile.

‘I’m afraid that won’t be acceptable. I’ll not connect my name with your Society until I know every activity it has a hand in. I’m sure you understand,’ Harry stated confidently.

‘Of course Harry,’ Walker assured him immediately. ‘As I said, I’ll have to discuss this with my contacts though. Now, in the meantime…’

Harry interrupted her by getting to his feet, Luc following swiftly.

‘That’s settled then,’ Harry said pleasantly. ‘I’ll be expecting your owl before the weekend, I’m sure that will give you sufficient time, won’t it?’

Walker gaped at him before stuttering: ‘But… Harry, I…’

‘A good day to you Madame Walker,’ Luc called over his shoulder as he followed a determined Harry out the door. 

* * *

 

  _Pathetic_ , Harry scolded himself. He’d been standing in front of the black door for what must be half an hour at least, trying to decide what to do. Harry hadn’t seen Draco all day. After the meeting with Walker, Harry had taken Luc to Diagon Alley. He told himself that he wasn’t trying to avoid Draco, but it was of little use. The blond menace was driving him insane! Sure, last night had been amazing… That letter, sharing Draco’s bed again, feeling the touch of his hands, his lips, his tongue… Harry groaned softly. Yes, that was all good, very good, but… That didn’t change the fact that once again Harry had woken to find himself alone. Harry swallowed to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth. 

So yes, he’d stayed away. It had been easy to persuade Luc to have dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry claiming that he wanted to take a trip down memory lane. Secretly, he’d been hoping to talk to his friend, about Draco, about the bloody door, about the letter… He knew Luc could help him. His friend would listen to him and have some wise words to offer, Harry felt sure of that. He hadn’t counted on running into George Weasley though. He’d forgotten how George would often grab a bite to eat here after closing up Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

Harry had only a moment to feel a pang of disappointment before he was enjoying himself, reminiscing with his old friend. Luc and George hit it off right away. George, aided by a shared bottle of Ogden’s finest, managed to make them all laugh until they were almost blue in the face. It had been a lovely night all round. Except… Harry was no further in deciding what to do about a certain excruciatingly annoying yet tantalisingly hot blond…

Right now, Harry could hear said blond scurrying around behind the door. For at least the sixth time tonight, he reached up a hand to knock at the door, only to pull back at the last minute. Harry had a pretty good idea of what would happen if he stepped through that wretched door. Draco would just have to look at him, quirk an eyebrow, and Harry would be falling over himself to get naked and back into Draco’s arms. Harry sighed as he felt blood surge to his crotch, his cock stirring eagerly at the mere thought. _Yes_ , Harry decided, _definitely pathetic_. 

Alright, he’d just have to try and be strong. Draco and he needed to talk, that’s all. Sure he’d like to do er… other things as well, but they should definitely talk first. Making up his mind, Harry raised his hand and knocked firmly.

The knocks were met with nothing but silence. Steeling himself, Harry knocked again, a little louder this time.

‘Go away Potter’.

Harry hesitated. The words missed the expected bite, sounding more defeated than anything else. What should he do? Something was obviously wrong and Draco had made it clear that he wanted to be left alone. But was that the right thing to do here?

‘Draco?’ he tried cautiously. ‘Are you alright?’

‘I’m just peachy Harry. Now leave me the fuck alone’. 

Harry’s shoulders sagged in defeat. Draco didn’t want to see him right now and he felt he had to respect that. Wearily shaking his head, he half turned around to walk away when the sound of the door swinging open stopped him in his tracks. Had Draco changed his mind? Harry’s heart gave a painful twitch as he saw the doorway was empty. Flicking his eyes further into the room, he saw Draco lying on his bed, looking first surprised and then disgruntled. He flipped on his side, turning his back on Harry and said: ‘I thought I told you to piss off’.

Harry felt deeply conflicted. Draco’s words were clear enough, but the sound of his voice… Draco sounded like he looked right now, small and deflated. Harry’s heart ached as he saw the hunched shoulders and the way Draco had rolled himself up into a little ball. Harry didn’t realise his feet had carried him forwards without his consent until he was only about three steps away from the bed. Harry halted and looked back just in time to see the black door close itself behind him with a small but determined click. Somehow, that emboldened him enough to close the last few steps to the bed. 

‘Draco? Come on now, don’t be like this,’ Harry said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Other than a slight stiffening of his frame, Draco didn’t react. Harry rolled his eyes at the blond’s stubbornness and put a hand on his shoulder.

‘What’s wrong? Please tell me,’ Harry coaxed gently.

Draco still didn’t react, but Harry took heart from the fact that he didn’t push him away either. Obviously the blond was miserable and Harry could only think to do one thing, even if he was unsure of what reaction that would provoke. He eased himself down on the bed and scooted over until he lay behind Draco. Harry waited with bated breath. When Draco still didn’t say anything, Harry took a deep breath, pulled the blond into him and wrapped his arms around him protectively, effectively spooning Draco. At first, the blond was cold and unresponsive in his arms. Harry held him tight, waiting patiently.

‘What, are we cuddling now?’

Draco’s dry words made Harry smile. Harry pushed his face into the soft, sweet smelling blond hair, nuzzling it as he squeezed his arms tighter around Draco and sighed.

‘Yeah, I think we are… You got a problem with that?’ Harry countered.

Draco gave a soft chuckle and said: ‘Always knew you were a kinky bastard. Gryffindork’.

Harry could feel Draco relax in his arms. The blond reached out one arm backwards, pulling Harry closer to him. 

They lay there quietly for what felt like hours but was probably only minutes. Harry felt totally content, breathing in Draco’s scent, feeling his body pressed up against him, pressing small kisses in Draco’s hair, his neck and on his shoulders. It felt like they were locked in their own little safe cocoon of silence, suspended somewhere outside space and time. Harry started as that silence was suddenly broken by whispered words.

‘I saw the Shaws again today’. 

‘Yeah?’ Harry whispered back.

Draco nodded.

‘They… they told me something about my Mother’.

Harry closed his eyes, a feeling of guilt and regret almost flooding him. Draco’s parents. Harry had forgotten all about them. How could he have forgotten something as important as that? He could kick himself for his own stupidity. 

‘They saw her,’ Draco said. He spoke so quietly that Harry had to lean in close in order to be able to hear him. ‘In that Pureblood wing of St Mungo’s? They saw her there…’

‘Go on,’ Harry encouraged him gently, pressing another kiss on the top of Draco’s head.

Draco was quiet for a long time before he finally continued: ‘They said she was unresponsive… She just stared into space, not reacting to anything around her. They were there for two hours, visiting a relative, and in all that time she hadn’t moved. She barely even blinked…’

Draco heaved a trembling sigh and then turned himself in Harry’s arms to face him.

‘Harry, I…’ he looked at Harry with desperate eyes and swallowed hard. ‘I need…’

‘Shhh…’ Harry interrupted him. ‘We’ll get her out, I promise you’.

Draco closed his eyes and slipped his hands round Harry’s waist.

‘Thank you…’ he whispered.

Draco snuggled up even closer, buried his face in Harry’s neck and breathed out heavily. 

Within seconds, Harry knew Draco was asleep. His breath came in even strokes and his body was warm and heavy in Harry’s arms. Harry yawned and closed his eyes, only to open them again almost immediately. Casting a spell that would warn him when Draco was about to wake up, thereby making sure the blond couldn’t sneak out on him again, Harry relaxed and let himself drift into a deep, comforting sleep. 


	16. Rita Skeeter

The woman waiting for them in the garden couldn’t possibly be Rita Skeeter, could it? Admittedly, she had about the same height and the hair colour was similar, but other than that…  

Where were the tight curls? This woman had blond hair alright, but the hair was soft and the curls flowing. She was dressed in simple but elegant looking dark blue robes and the rhinestone spectacles where nowhere in sight. 

Harry stepped forward uncertainly.

‘Miss Skeeter?’ he tried experimentally. 

The woman smiled and nodded.

‘Mr Potter. How lovely to see you after all those years. And Mr Malfoy too of course. Thank you for inviting me to your beautiful home. It truly is magnificent, you know…’ Skeeter said.

‘I do,’ Draco replied coolly. ‘It’s not me that’s invited you though, it’s Granger. I’m still not at all sure about this and neither is Harry’. 

Harry studied Skeeter’s features, curious to see what her reaction would be to Draco’s blunt words. Harry was surprised to see she actually had the courtesy to wince slightly before answering.

‘Yes, well… I suppose I deserve that…’

Draco just cocked an eyebrow in question, waiting for her to expand on that statement.

Skeeter sighed and shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

‘What can I say?’ she started. ‘I know I’ve made life difficult for you both in the past. I hope you can believe I’m sorry about that. Please let me reassure you that nothing like that will happen this time. It’ll be your words and your words only, I’ll swear to that’. 

‘And why should we believe that?’ Harry couldn’t stop himself from asking. ‘I remember what you were like. The Triwizard tournament, the trials after the war, the Malfoy exposés. You think we wouldn’t remember those?’

‘I’m sure you remember all of them,’ she said quietly. ‘I know I do’.

They were quiet for a little while, all lost in their own memories. In the end, it was Draco that broke the silence.

‘Tell me what has changed,’ he demanded. 

Skeeter smiled ruefully before nodding her consent. They walked towards one of the benches up ahead and sat down. Both Draco and Harry remained silent, looking at Skeeter expectantly. 

Harry had to admit he was curious. He could see this _was_ indeed Rita Skeeter. He recognised the distinctive features, although they all seemed to have softened somehow. Even though he recognised her now, he also knew that something had changed about her and he found himself interested to hear what was the cause of that change.

Skeeter took a deep breath and started to speak: ‘Rose Barbary. She was the one that woke me up’.

A look of sorrow clouded the witch’s face as she continued: ‘Rose was a pureblood witch, daughter of Flavius and Dorea Barbary. I think Mr Malfoy might know them?’

Draco nodded, watching her intently.

‘I heard this rumour that she had a thing for their Muggle neighbour you see, a Mr Hunter. Her parents were less than enthusiastic, since the man was only recently divorced and was looking after his two young daughters. I, in my immeasurable wisdom, thought it had the potential to be one of those epic love stories, if only I’d embellish the truth somewhat’. She laughed bitterly at her own words and closed her eyes.

‘I had it all figured out, me and my trusted Quick-Quotes Quill. “The love story between a beautiful pureblood witch and her handsome Muggle prince” I called it. I painted a picture of two innocents, their young love thwarted by her pureblood parents, stuck in their archaic pureblood world, blind to the love that every fool could see’.

She looked back at Harry with a wry smile, shaking her head in disbelief at her own stupidity.

‘I didn’t even bother to actually talk to any of them you know. Why would I, when I could _make up_ their story so much better than they could have lived it?’

Draco’s mouth twisted in a look of disgust. Skeeter noticed it and said: ‘I was insufferably arrogant then, I realise that now’.

‘What happened?’ asked Harry, genuinely curious to hear the answer. Skeeter got a faraway look in her eyes as she continued: ‘I felt so stupidly pleased with myself, it was sickening. I decided I would let the two young lovebirds bask in my glory and paid Rose a little visit. That’s when she told me… Two days after my article came out, the Aurors had come by and arrested her parents on suspicion of all kinds of Muggle discrimination acts. It didn’t matter how much they told the Aurors that they had no problem with Muggles, had chosen to live in a Muggle area on purpose, that some of their best friends were Muggles. They didn’t care. Just like I hadn’t cared about whether or not what I wrote was the actual truth. I called myself a journalist, but the truth is, up till that moment, I didn’t care…’

Skeeter shivered and took another deep breath before continuing: ‘She looked at me with such desperation. She wasn’t even angry, just worn out with worry about her parents. She didn’t scold me, she didn’t make any recriminations, she just stood there and let me see her pain…That’s when I knew. I knew something was really wrong with the wizarding community and I knew that I wasn’t helping. In fact, I was making things worse. I had a sneaking suspicion that this was not the first case where I had unknowingly aggravated a bad situation and vowed that I wouldn’t do that ever again. No more writing without thinking about the consequences. No more making up stories, adding or deleting details to spruce them up or make them more “interesting”. I’d had a much needed wake up call and I’ve been trying to change things for the better ever since’. 

‘What did you do?’  Harry asked.

‘First thing I did was get the Barbarys out. I used my old contacts in the Auror department to get them released and then I contacted Mr Zabini to get them out of the country. Second, I quit my job at the Prophet. I started setting up my own underground publication. It’s been up and running for about a year now. “The Oracle” is how I got into contact with Miss Granger again actually’. She gave a small smile and continued: ‘You should have seen her face when she first found out that I was the one publishing it’.

‘So this “Oracle”, is that the publication you want this interview for?’ Draco asked thoughtfully. 

Skeeter nodded.

‘Why?’ Draco asked.

Skeeter fidgeted, looking a bit confused and more than a little agitated.

‘Sorry?’

‘Why would we give you an interview? What would that accomplish? And why would we be inclined to help _you_?’ Draco expanded impatiently. 

That’s when Harry noticed the shrewd eyes. Whatever had changed, the calculating brain had not. But if that brain would now work _with_ them instead of against them… Harry shivered. Yes, Skeeter was pure Slytherin still, and they needed as much of that as they could possibly get.

‘Has Miss Granger told you about the number of my subscriptions?’ she asked semi-casually. ‘I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised. And as for what else I can do for you… this interview will be completely on your terms. I’ll only write about what you want me to write about and I’ll wait on publishing until your say so’.

Skeeter eyed Draco hesitantly.

‘What?’ he shot, sounding irritated.

‘Besides the interview, there might be something else I can do. I… I heard about your mother, Mr Malfoy,’ she said quietly. ‘I think I can help’.

Draco stiffened but didn’t say a word. Harry could see hope flare up in Draco’s eyes, only to be repressed again within half a second. When Draco looked unable to speak, Harry asked the question for him: ‘How. Tell us how you can help’. 

‘I think I can probably get her released from that new wing of St Mungo’s. It’s easier during the weekend. There are less staff around then, and I know the nurse who’s in charge at weekends. She’s one of us, I know she’ll cooperate if she can. I might need your help though Mr Potter,’ she said, looking at Harry uncertainly.

‘Of course,’ Harry agreed immediately. ‘Help me get Mrs Malfoy out and we’ll give you any interview you want’. 

‘Good,’ she replied, looking relieved. She took out her wand and conjured up a pile of newspapers. ‘Here are the latest issues of The Oracle. It’ll give you an idea of what it’s about and what the interview will be like. Mr Potter, I’ll owl you to set up a time for this weekend. Don’t worry Mr Malfoy. We’ll get her out’. 

 

* * *

 

‘But I don’t want to…’

Harry smiled at the petulant tone and hugged the naked blond a bit closer.

‘I know you don’t. But you _did_ promise. They’re expecting us now,’ he said, trying to sound reasonable.

Draco huffed.

‘I don’t care. I’m not setting foot into the Git’s house, and that’s final’. 

Harry pressed a small kiss in the back of Draco’s neck and shifted his body to fit in even better against the blond’s back. His knees slid up to fit behind Draco’s, his groin pressing snugly against Draco’s delicious arse, one arm slung over the blond’s waist while the other trailed a languid path up and down Draco’s flank. 

‘Stop it,’ the blond grumbled moodily.

‘You know you love it,’ Harry teased, using his blunt nails now on his path, eliciting a delighted shiver.

‘I do not,’ Draco objected. ‘You’re snuggling. I’ll have you know, Malfoys don’t do snuggling’. 

Harry snorted. 

‘I don’t know about Malfoys in general, but I know about you. This morning, when we woke up, you were definitely snuggling’.

‘Shut up Potter,’ Draco mumbled, burying his head in his pillow with a groan.

‘Will not,’ Harry crowed. ‘Face it, you’re a sneaky snuggler and you know it!’

Draco lifted his head to throw a disgruntled look over his shoulder.

‘This is not helping you know. If you’re trying to convince me to accompany you to Weasley’s house, you’re going about it the wrong way entirely’ he huffed.

‘Oh really? So what is the right way to persuade you then?’ Harry asked eagerly.

Draco raised his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. 

‘You think I’m going to help you? What, am I insane? Use your imagination Potter. And if all else fails, use bribery. It’s the tool of choice for any Malfoy,’ he finished smugly.

Harry felt a warm, tingly feeling creep up on him, making his skin break out in goose bumps and his heart skip a beat or two. Was Draco implying that Harry was a Malfoy now? Harry bit his tongue to keep the question in, fearing he’d ruin things if he actually came out and asked. Instead, he opted to roll Draco on his back and nestle himself between the blond’s thighs with a satisfied little sigh.

Draco’s eyes widened as Harry lowered his head to press a small kiss against Draco’s abdomen. 

‘What are you doing?’ Draco questioned breathily.

Harry rolled his eyes.

‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking your advice’.

Draco hissed his breath as Harry licked a slow stripe down his straining erection.

‘What advice is that?’ Draco panted, throwing his head back as Harry circled the sensitive tip of his cock.

Harry looked up at the dishevelled mess that was Draco, arms flung back, legs spread wantonly and hair looking like he’d just been thoroughly shagged. He bent down again, took the tip of Draco’s cock in and sucked softly, revelling in the involuntary needy little cries the blond let out. Draco bucked hip hips up, trying to shove himself further into Harry’s mouth, but Harry put a stop to that by pinning the blond’s hips down with both hands. Draco threw his head back with a frustrated growl.

Harry let Draco slip out of his mouth and looked up with a smirk.

‘Oh you know, just trying to “persuade” you to come to Ron and Hermione with me tonight. Using “a little bribery” if necessary’. 

Harry ran a teasing hand slowly up and down the inside of Draco’s thigh. Being a little distracted, it took Draco a while to grasp what was going on. When he did, his eyes flew open, he raised himself on his elbows and a look at Harry with stormy eyes full of outrage.

‘What?! You wouldn’t dare!’ Draco cried indignantly.

‘Dare what?’ Harry said, blinking innocently. ‘I’m just offering you a nice, juicy incentive. What’s wrong with that?’

To demonstrate his point, Harry batted his eyelids in mock innocence before taking Draco’s cock all the way in, as far as he could take him, and hummed.

‘Fuck!’ Draco cried out, clawing his hands in the rumpled sheets helplessly.

Immediately, Harry released him and asked: ‘Shall I take that as a yes then?’

Draco gritted his teeth and glared. Harry just cocked his eyebrow and waited, languidly stroking his hand up and down the blond’s now quivering cock.

Draco bit his lip, but kept up the glare with full force. Harry could see him battling with the pleasure, resisting it to avoid the torture that he imagined would be their dinner at Hermione and Ron’s house. Harry decided to tip the scale in his favour, swiping his thumb over the sensitive tip of Draco’s cock and promising more to come with his eyes.

Draco flopped back in surrender.

‘Alright,’ he grumbled, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.

Harry gave him a victorious smile and then started working the blond’s cock in earnest. 

He knew what Draco liked now, and used that knowledge to drive the blond to his advantage. He loosened his grip on Draco’s hips, allowing Draco to push up and shove himself deeper down Harry’s throat. Feeling brave, Harry tried to swallow around the tip. Draco cried out hoarsely and bucked his hips repeatedly crying out a string of incoherent words.

‘Yes… Oh fuck Harry, yes, just like that… Oh god, I… yes, just… please, I have to…’

Harry loved hearing and watching Draco come undone. His limbs flopped around helplessly on the bed while he tossed his head from left to right, biting his lip fiercely. Harry licked, sucked and swallowed alternately, using the blond’s reaction to guide him. As he curled his tongue, twirling up from the base to the tip, Draco buried his hands in Harry’s hair and bucked up violently. Harry spluttered a little, but kept up his movements, only holding the blond down when it got to be too much. When he felt Draco arching his back, Harry took him in deep and swallowed three times. Draco cried out as he spilled himself down Harry’s throat, his body gripped by an orgasm so strong it made his whole body tremble. Harry swallowed all of it down, gripping his own cock and bringing about his own magnificent climax with just a few firm strokes. 

Still panting, he crawled up and flopped himself down besides Draco, curling into him as the blond wrapped and arm around him and pulled him closer.

‘See. Snuggler,’ Harry said, clearing his throat several time at the guttural sound that came out. 

‘Shut up,’ Draco said, unable to repress a satisfied grin.

‘So…’ Harry said casually. ‘I guess we’d better get up then. You know, since we’re going over to Hermione’s house in a bit’.

‘Git’, Draco grumbled, giving him a playful shove. ‘Can’t believe you got me to agree to that’.

Harry smiled brilliantly. 

‘I know,’ he said smugly.

Draco leaned in to wipe the smug smile of Harry’s mouth with a leisurely kiss, followed by a dozen tiny little kisses.

‘Totally worth it though,’ Draco admitted, pressing one more kiss on the tip of Harry’s nose.

 


	17. Dinner with Ron and Hermione

‘Harry, mate… So good to see you’, Ron said, giving his friend a wide grin and a slightly awkward hug.

‘Good to see you too, Ron. It’s been too long,’ Harry returned, feeling genuinely pleased to see his old friend.

‘Yes yes, marvellous to see you and all that, Weasley, Granger,’ came Draco’s dry words. ‘Now, seeing as we’ve done the whole touching reunion thing, can we move this evening along please?’

Hermione smiled at Draco indulgently and ushered them through to the dining room. 

Harry sniffed the air coming from the adjacent kitchen appreciatively.

‘Something smells good. Is that your roast lamb by any chance?’ Harry asked hopefully. 

‘It certainly is,’ Hermione beamed. ‘And Ron made a raspberry trifle for dessert. He finally managed to wrestle the recipe out of his Mum’. 

‘Fantastic, can’t wait!’ Harry said happily. ‘Now where are my favourite niece and nephew hiding tonight?’

Hermione snorted and she and Ron exchanged a knowing look. 

‘Ron and I finally caved and bought them a Muggle television last month. They’ve been pretty much glued to it ever since. I swear, they’d eat and sleep in front of it given half a chance’.

Ron walked out the room and they could hear him call for the children, announcing that their visitors had arrived. 

Seconds later, Harry was buried under the fierce hugs of two red-headed children, slightly over excited to see their “Uncle Harry” again. Harry laughed, picked them both up and squeezed them tight. He didn’t get to see little Rose and Hugo anywhere near as much as he would like, Harry realised with a pang. Hermione would bring them over to France on her visits only occasionally, and only when he saw them again, did he realise how much he missed them.

He released the children, playfully tousling Hugo’s hair and tugging at one of Rose’s springy curls.

‘Did you bring us any more of those French cigars Uncle Harry?’ Hugo asked excitedly.

Draco raised an eyebrow and looked at Harry in question.

‘Encouraging young children to smoke are we now? That doesn’t sound like something the Hero of the Wizarding World should do, does it?’

Harry rolled his eyes and elbowed Draco in the ribs. 

‘Not cigars you idiot. _Cigales_. Sugar Cigales.  Back in France, they’re like the local equivalent to Chocolate  Frogs, with collectable cards and everything,’ Harry explained. With a quick wand movement, he conjured up several small boxes, eliciting excited squeals from both Hugo and Rose. 

Ron and Hermione groaned in unison.

‘Merlin Harry, must you? Are you actually _trying_ to torture us or is that just a bonus?’ Ron complained woefully. 

‘Oh shut up Ron, you big wuss,’ Harry mocked him mercilessly. ‘The charm that allows them to chant lasts no more than a couple of hours, surely’.

‘A couple of hours is bad enough I’d say,’ Draco said, pulling a face. ‘I remember those little buggers waking me up at ungodly hours at your estate’.

‘That’s because you call anything before noon an ungodly hour,’ Harry mumbled. 

Draco just raised an eyebrow and refrained from further comment.

‘Remember that time when three of them got away and we couldn’t find them?’ Ron asked Hermione, looking at her full of self-pity. 

Hermione nodded distractedly, pressing upon the children that they were only allowed to open one box each.

‘Awww…’ complained Rose. ‘Just the one? Come on Mum, we haven’t had any new ones for _ages_ …’

Hugo nodded vigorously, for once in complete agreement with his big sister. 

‘How about two,’ Hugo tried, looking at his Mum with big, pleading brown eyes.

‘Yes Mum, only two, come on, please…’ Rose begged.

 

* * *

 

Six sugar cigales, two helpings of Hermione’s excellent roast lamb and a large bowl each of Ron’s trifle later, every one was feeling full and contented. Even Draco had been almost complimentary. Harry noticed he’d talked a bit with Hermione and of course both children had taken a shine to him straight away. Rose had been eager to show off her reading skills, taking after her Mum that one, and Hugo had impressed them all by just how fast he could run and how far he could jump. They all praised both children, but it was Draco’s solemn words of “very good Rose” and “quite impressive Hugo” that made them beam and think up other things they could impress their new “Uncle Draco” with. That title conjured an appalled look on Draco’s face that had the adults at the table in stitches. 

Harry himself had been mostly engrossed in conversation with Ron. His redheaded friend had been eager to reminisce, talking about their days as Auror trainees. Harry had been happy to indulge him, enjoying a chance to interact with Ron as had once been common between them. It really was good to see Ron again, Harry thought. And even though their relationship could never be as easy and self-evident as it once was, Harry did regret that he had let their friendship slip away so entirely. 

Hermione had just gone up to put the children to bed, when Harry jumped at what felt like a hand fluttering lightly over his left thigh. He looked to his left sharply, but found Draco staring at his empty plate innocently.

‘… don’t you think?’ 

‘Sorry Ron, what was that?’ Harry asked distractedly. 

‘I said that it’s a pity Luc couldn’t join us tonight. I would have liked to finally meet him,’ Ron repeated.

‘Right, right…’ Harry agreed. ‘The doctors say Nicole and the baby are going to be fine. I’m glad Luc went though. Stéphane will need to spend more time with his wife now that she’s on bed rest until the birth. Luc will make arrangements for one of the workers to take over some of Stéphane’s duties, and I’m sure Kreacher is thoroughly enjoying bullying Nicole into taking it easy’. Harry snorted.

Ron was about to answer when Hermione’s voice called him from upstairs, inviting him to come say goodnight to the children. As he watched Ron leap up the stairs two steps at a time, Harry felt a warm hand snake up from his knee to his thigh.

‘Hey, stop that,’ he complained, batting Draco’s hand away. 

‘Just making sure you haven’t forgotten me’, Draco said, keeping his hand firmly in place.

‘What are you talking about?’ Harry sighed.

‘I almost felt like we were back at Hogwarts for Merlin’s sake,’ Draco sulked. ‘You, the Weasel, Granger… You’re like The Three Musketeers or something equally ridiculous’.

Draco huffed loudly, pinching Harry’s knee in emphasis. 

‘The Three Musketeers? What in the world do you know about them?’ Harry asked, looking incredulous. 

‘I do _read_   Potter’, Draco sneered. 

‘Sorry, sorry…’ Harry apologised, raising his hands in mock surrender. ‘I’m just surprised you would know anything about Muggle literature, that’s all. I didn’t…’

They were interrupted by Hermione and Ron coming back into the dining room. 

‘They were asleep within seconds,’ Hermione smiled. ‘Looks like their Uncle Harry and their new favourite Uncle Draco completely wore them out’. 

‘That’s nice,’ Harry said distractedly, trying to shove Draco’s stubborn hand off his thigh. 

‘Really nice,’ Draco agreed, not even commenting on the “Uncle Draco” part, instead seeming to focus all his energy on slipping his hand back on Harry’s leg every time Harry managed to successfully shove it off. 

It took Harry until the second cup of coffee to finally give up. He had this vain hope that if he stopped resisting, Draco would lose interest. Obviously that didn’t work. Harry ground his teeth trying to ignore the lazy, circular patterns Draco drew. Up and down, starting just above the knee and slowly circling his way up and up until… Harry stifled a groan as best he could, taking another sip of coffee to try and hide the sound. 

‘Are you alright Harry?’ Hermione asked, a look of concern on her face.

Harry forced a smile and tried to reassure her.

‘I’m fine Hermione. I think I may have a cold though,’ he said, clearing his throat as in a demonstration.

Ron nodded.

‘Could be mate. I thought your voice sounded a bit funny,’ he agreed.

‘Yeah…’ Harry mumbled, noncommittally, trying to ignore Draco’s quiet snicker.

‘Right,’ Hermione said, clearing her throat and visibly sitting up straighter. ‘I have to ask Harry, have you thought about my proposal. You know, you er… challenging Scrimgeour and running for Minister of Magic yourself?’

Harry took a deep breath and made a huge effort to ignore Draco’s hand that was still making its torturous circular patterns. 

‘I have actually,’ Harry started. ‘Look Hermione, you know how much I respect you and how much I respect your judgement, but here you’ve made a mistake. Minister of Magic just isn’t for me, you _must_ know that. I don’t have a political bone in my body and I absolutely lack the drive. Let’s face it, I’d be rubbish at it, not to mention completely miserable. I’m sorry Hermione, I really am’. 

For a moment Hermione looked absolutely devastated. But then she shrugged and pulled herself together.

‘I understand Harry. We’ll just have to think of another way. There _must_ be someone else that could stand up to Scrimgeour, I just don’t know who…’ she said thoughtfully. 

‘I think I do, Harry said calmly. Somewhere during his little speech, Draco’s hand had stilled high up on his left thigh, making it only slightly easier for Harry to concentrate and deliver his next line with a bit of confidence: ‘It’s you Hermione, it has to be you I think’.

Hermione shook her head several times.

‘No. I can’t! I would never be able to raise the kind of support you could Harry. I’d have no chance against someone like Scrimgeour’.

‘What are you talking about you silly witch,’ Ron interjected. ‘You’d be an amazing Minister. You practically run the Department of International Magical Cooperation as it is and everyone knows it’. 

‘Be that as it may, but I really feel…’ Hermione tried to disagree, but Harry didn’t give her a chance to finish her thought.

‘Ron’s right,’ he stated. ‘Look at how many people you’ve been able to unite at such short notice. And I didn’t say I wouldn’t be prepared to help, of course I will. I’ll back you up 100 percent. Not that you’ll need it really. You _are_ a war heroine yourself you know!’

Hermione blushed.

‘Well yes, I suppose so, but I still think…’

‘You’d have my vote Granger’, Draco said quietly.

Hermione gawped at Draco, who eyed her back calmly.

‘What?’ she squeaked. 

‘You heard. They’re right, you’re the obvious choice. You’ve displayed some talent for politics that I myself have been able to witness, your intelligence is above average I suppose and to top it all off, you’ll have The Saviour of the Wizarding World in your corner. Scrimgeour has no chance’. 

‘You actually mean it, don’t you…’ Hermione stated. 

It wasn’t a question, so Draco didn’t bother answering. Hermione looked at him for a long time, then at Harry and finally at her husband. Finally, she took a steadying breath and said: ‘Alright. Alright I’ll do it’.

 

* * *

 

Harry let out a deep sigh as the hot water from the shower washed the day away. He closed his eyes and let the water pour down on his face and body.

He’d done it. He’d told Hermione that he wasn’t going to run for Minister and that she should do it instead. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

He thought she’d taken his words relatively well. Harry felt his lips curl up in a smile as he thought about the kind of fight she’d put up against Scrimgeour. He’d almost feel sorry for the man. Almost, not quite. It was under his rule after all, that the Bald Eagle Society had been given free reign. Harry’s face contorted in anger and despite the warmth of the shower, Harry felt a shudder go through him as he recalled the image of a scarred and abused Draco Malfoy, left on his doorstep like he was nothing but a pile of garbage. 

Harry slammed his hand flat against the cool tiles of the shower at the memory.

‘I’ll have you know those are imported tiles from Italy. A little respect please’.

Harry jumped and almost slipped as he heard Draco’s voice so unexpectedly in his bathroom. 

He squinted through the foggy glass door, only able to make out a pale blur.

‘How did you get in here?’ Harry stammered.

Draco snorted.

‘That massive black door works both ways you know,’ Draco said, sliding open the glass door and joining Harry under the shower in two quick steps. The blond sighed blissfully as he stood behind Harry and slipped his arms around Harry’s waist.

‘Mmmmm…’ Harry agreed, turning in Draco’s arms and letting his hands rest on the blond’s slim hips.

‘So… It will not be “The Boy that Lived to become Minister of Magic” after all…’ Draco mused, after they’d been standing together quietly for a while, enjoying the warmth of the shower and of each other.

‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Harry confirmed. He hesitated a moment before adding: ‘How do you feel about that?’

Draco shrugged.

‘What does it matter? You’ve made your decision haven’t you?’

Harry looked at Draco searchingly.

‘It matters to me,’ he said. ‘I want to know. I want to know what _you_ think’.

Draco’s face softened in a smile that Harry didn’t completely understand, but warmed his heart nonetheless. 

‘I think you made the right decision Harry’.

Draco bent his head and pressed a soft kiss on Harry’s lips.

‘I do think it’s a pity though… I would have quite liked being “in” with the Minister,’ Draco smirked.

Harry laughed.

‘I’ll just bet you would. Merlin knows what you’d get up to at some stuffy Ministry function. I’ll have you know you almost drove me insane with the groping tonight. What if Hermione or Ron had noticed what you were doing?’ Harry accused, shoving Draco playfully. 

‘What if they had?’ Draco gave back. 

‘What? You wouldn’t… Are you saying, that, you know, you’d _want_ them to know?’ Harry stammered.

‘Meaning you don’t?’ Draco shot back, looking at Harry with uncomfortable intensity. ‘Are you embarrassed about this?’ Draco insisted. ‘About us? Me?’

‘Never,’ Harry said evenly. ‘You have no idea what this means to me, what _you_ mean to me. I…’

But the rest of Harry’s words were lost as Draco shoved him up against the tiles and silenced him with a wet, hot kiss.


	18. Steam

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, caused by the contrast between the cool tiles against his back and the heat of Draco’s body, his mouth, his tongue… God, that tongue…Again Harry shivered, a shiver of intense pleasure this time. He could barely feel the tiles now, all he felt was the hot water running down his naked skin and of course Draco… 

He felt Draco’s hands, both of them. One in his wet hair, keeping Harry’s face in place as Draco kissed him slowly but thoroughly. The other was tracing a line up and down his flank. At times the line was straight, but mostly the line was flowing, curving, sometimes turning into the circular patterns that had driven Harry to distraction earlier that evening. 

He felt Draco’s thigh, pushed firmly between Harry’s thighs, parting them slightly. Harry groaned aloud as Draco shifted, making their erections slide together in one hot, wet movement. Harry could both hear and feel Draco’s soft chuckle. Annoyed, Harry retaliated by twisting his hips, causing delicious friction and a magnificent little ‘Mmmmmmm…’ sound from Draco. Now it was Harry’s turn to chuckle. 

He could feel Draco’s entire body, pressed up tightly against his. Harry kept his own hands busy, one cupping the blond’s arse firmly, the other sliding up and down his spine. He used his blunt nails to make Draco shiver in turn. 

Harry moaned in protest as Draco reluctantly released his lips and stepped back.

‘Too much water,’ Draco spluttered, throwing his head back and squinting at the shower head accusingly. 

Harry smiled wickedly and said: ‘I don’t know… I think I quite like it. It’s so hot… and wet’. 

But Draco leaned back and turned the water off nonetheless.

‘Hey!’ Harry complained, reaching behind Draco to try and turn the shower back on.

Draco put a stilling hand on Harry’s chest.

‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Just wait, I think you’ll like this. Seeing as you’re so fond of things that are, you know… hot and wet’. 

Draco emphasised his point by snogging Harry nearly senseless, eliciting a breathless laugh. 

Draco reached out to run the index finger of his left hand down a subtle vertical line of tiny, muted grey tiles. Harry gasped as numerous small, stylised silver dragonheads began sliding out the tile walls of the shower, all emitting individual streams of fragrant steam. At the same time, a flat, wooden bench started to rise up out of the floor, until it reached about knee height. 

‘That’s a neat trick,’ Harry commented dryly.

‘Told you you’d like it!’ Draco called over his shoulder as he stepped out of the cubicle only to come back in again, arms piled high with fluffy white towels.

‘Better by the minute,’ Harry replied after watching Draco spread out the towels on the bench and patting on them invitingly. They both straddled the bench, facing each other.

‘Hi,’ Harry spoke softly.

‘Hey’. Draco smiled, leaning in for a slow kiss. 

Harry tilted his head and opened his mouth, giving Draco the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He sighed blissfully as he felt Draco’s tongue explore his mouth at a languid pace. Harry let his hands slide down the warm and moist skin of Draco’s back, coming to rest on the blond’s buttocks. He scooted closer, close enough for him to be able to lift his legs and wrap them loosely around Draco’s hips. Harry slipped his arms around Draco’s waist and let his chin rest on the blond’s left shoulder. Draco responded by wrapping his own arms around Harry, making Harry feel ridiculously happy. He breathed in through his nose slowly, letting the humid, hot air fill his nose and lungs. 

‘Lavender?’ he asked, sniffing the air experimentally. 

Draco pressed a kiss on his shoulder and answered: ‘To remind you of home’. 

Harry smiled and squeezed the blond for a second, revelling in his nearness, only just repressing the urge to say something embarrassing like that here, in Draco’s arms, was home to him now.

They sat together for what could be seconds, minutes, hours, Harry had lost all track of time. He loved being this close to Draco, loved the way they breathed as one, in out, in and out… 

One minute they’d been sitting there, holding each other quietly, and the next, Harry could feel himself being slowly tilted back. He snapped his head back to look at Draco and saw the blond had a look of determined concentration on his face. That look was so intriguing that it distracted him enough to be surprised when his back hit something solid. All of a sudden, he was lying flat on his back with Draco hovering over him. He missed the intimacy of their earlier position but this, well, this had some interesting possibilities too…

Draco leaned over him, lowered his mouth and attached it to one of Harry’s nipples with a satisfied little moan. Harry hissed his breath, throwing his head back and then looked up again so he could see the blond head working on his chest. Harry panted as Draco lapped at the nipple languidly, over and over, making it stand up and a bolt of arousal go straight to his neglected cock. Harry pushed up his hips, looking for any kind of friction, but the blond used both hands to pin Harry’s hips down.  Harry groaned as Draco sucked at the nipple, taking it and the skin around it into his mouth and flicking his tongue at the tip. 

‘Draco… please…’ Harry pleaded, for what he wasn’t particularly sure. For him to stop? To continue? No, for _more_ , Harry decided. He needed _more_ , so much more…

Draco was relentless. While his hands had thankfully released Harry’s hips to roam around his body with feather light touches, he never stopped abusing Harry’s nipple. Now he bit it softly, lapped at it and then circled it again and again, all in the same maddeningly lazy rhythm. 

‘Dracooooooo…’ Harry whined.

Draco looked up and laughed hoarsely, making Harry’s cock twitch eagerly. The blond licked his lips appreciatively.

‘Mmmmm…’ he said. ‘You taste nice. Very nice’.

Harry flushed deep red, but before he could form a response the blond swooped down again, now taking the other nipple in his mouth and starting his slow torture all over again. Harry writhed beneath him, squirming as Draco’s hand fluttered over the soft skin of his abdomen, spreading his legs eagerly as Draco’s other hand grazed his inner thigh. He was so hard, so fucking hard, that he thought the bastard might make him come without fucking him or even touching his cock for Christ’s sake. Enjoying it as he was, it just wasn’t _enough_ , not nearly enough.

Harry used his arms to push himself upright and almost fell straight back again. _Too fast_ … He’d almost forgotten about the heat of the steam filled cubicle, engrossed as he’d been in the heat of Draco’s mouth. Draco had slipped down as Harry pushed himself up, but now he was sitting back with a bemused smile. Merlin, Harry loved that mouth. The soft pink lips that could go from thin annoyance to this full, sensuously curving smile. Harry was drawn to it, to _him_ , like a moth to a flame. Almost before he knew it, he had crushed their lips together for a heated kiss. He all but devoured Draco’s eager mouth and the blond let him. But when Harry tried to scoot closer to shove his needy, throbbing erection against Draco’s, the blond scooted back and shook his head. Immediately Harry tried to get closer again, but Draco backed off further, until he got up and stared down on Harry with reproach.

‘Merlin Harry, calm down. You’re moving too fast. Do you not feel the heat in here? That calls for relaxing, taking our time’.

Harry bristled at the cool words, not appreciating the blond standing there so cool and unaffected, while he himself was dangerously close to the edge.

‘Well you’re moving _too_ slowly for me. Come back here,’ he demanded. 

Draco shook his head in refusal, stubbornly leaning back against the wall, away from Harry. 

They eyed each other speculatively, neither of them willing to back down. Harry wracked his brain, trying to come up with something, _anything_ , that would make the blond come back and do things on _Harry’s_ terms for a change. Not coming up with anything useful, he narrowed his eyes in contemplation for a moment and then shrugged and decided to go for the next best thing.

He leaned back a little, keeping himself propped up by leaning on one elbow. Then he let his free hand slide down from his chest to his crotch, grabbing his fully erect cock firmly. He hissed in approval, half-closed his eyes and started stroking himself leisurely. 

‘What are you doing?’ came Draco’s breathless words. 

Harry opened his eyes, raised one of his eyebrows mockingly and said nothing. He kept his eyes on the blond, watching his reaction as he kept working his cock up and down. Slow motions at first, but then he sped up, pumping himself furiously only to slow down again as he felt himself come too close. _Not yet_ , he thought. 

He lowered his eyelids and watched Draco through his lashes. _So beautiful_ , Harry thought. And he was. His pale body was flushed a light pink and shimmered with the moistness of the steam. His lips were slightly open, his chest heaving with shallow pants as he watched Harry pleasure himself. When Harry circled the head of his cock with his thumb and then pressed it down into the slit, Draco swallowed and closed his eyes for a second. The next moment they were open again, staring hungrily at Harry’s movements. 

Harry felt a thrill of power rush over him as he took in Draco’s mesmerised look. The silver eyes followed his hand, up and down, up and down… Experimentally, he let himself fall back, propped his head up with one of the towels and let his other hand wander around his body aimlessly. Draco was now torn between the two hands, flicking back and forth between the hand still stroking his ready-to-burst cock and the hand that was sliding over his chest, his thighs, his belly… He heard the blond gasp softly as he circled his belly button and dipped in. He did it again, letting Draco’s reactions guide his movements.

This was good. _Very good_ , Harry decided. His hands slid over his wet body easily, pausing at times to see Draco’s eyes widen or his tongue flick out to wet his lips. _Perhaps_ , Harry thought, _if I play my cards right, things might go my way after all…_

With calculated movements, Harry let go of his cock, used one arm to push his arse off the bench and used the other to reach behind him.

‘What are you doing?’ Draco asked again, the question ending in a moan as Harry spread his legs wider to give the blond a better view.

This time Harry chose to answer.

‘What you won’t do,’ he said, proud to hear that his voice sounded steady, though a bit breathless. That was alright, Harry decided. Especially as he lifted two fingers to his lips and sucked them in and the blond gave a helpless tiny little moan. Harry released the fingers with a small pop, smiling serenely as he reached behind himself again and pushed the fingers against his entrance, biting down a groan as the tips slipped in. 

‘Draco…’ Harry panted, letting himself imagine that it was Draco’s fingers, instead of his own.

Draco whimpered. He looked to be shaking on his legs as he stumbled two steps forward. The blond thumped down on the bench in front of him, his knees not able to hold him up any longer. Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he watched Draco, his eyes wide open, pupils dilated with lust. 

Wordlessly, Harry showed Draco what he wanted. He lowered himself on his fingers harshly, biting his bottom lip at the sharp pain caused by the intrusion. He didn’t care. He was ready, so ready, and he wanted Draco _now_. He raised himself up slowly and then shoved himself down again, groaning as the very tips of his fingers managed to just nudge at his prostate. 

Harry felt exhilarated. It was so warm in here, his body dripping with a mixture of sweat and the moisture of the steam. And Draco, God… His every muscle was tensed and Harry thought that he could see each one at play underneath the flushed skin. He loved that beautiful, smooth skin, faded scars and all. He loved the lean legs, the subtly toned arms, the flat stomach, that wonderfully dusky pink, hard cock… The one he wanted inside him, right _now_.

Harry pounced without hesitation. Draco didn’t protest as he was pushed on his back, instead flinging his arms over his head in silent surrender. Harry smiled victoriously, climbing up to straddle the blond’s hips. He grabbed Draco’s cock, finally, _finally_ , pulled it back from the blond’s stomach and gave it a quick kiss. His smile turned wolfish as the blond shuddered beneath him from the simple touch. He released Draco for a moment to scoot a bit higher up, reached behind him and enveloped him again with a steady grip. Hovering himself above Draco’s yearning cock, the very tip nudging at his entrance, he waited until Draco’s silver eyes locked with his.

That’s when he took a deep breath and pushed himself down, hard. He cried out, the pain stinging intensely. Draco tried to prop himself up on his elbows, a look of concern on his face. Harry shook his head and pushed him down again.

‘Just wait…’ Harry said, feeling the pain subsiding already. ‘I’m ok. I’m fine. Really’.

Draco looked up at him uncertainly. He looked like he was about to protest, or ask another silly question, so Harry decided now was a good time to _move_. And that he did, silencing anything Draco might have wanted to say in the process.

Right away they were both gone. Draco thrashing helplessly on the white towels as Harry rode him. Fast, faster, and then slow again, the heat making it impossible to keep up the quick movements for long. Soon, Draco was moving with him, moving up with Harry’s downwards strokes. The movements enabled the blond to slip in even deeper, making Harry cry out, in pleasure this time. 

‘Like that?’ Draco panted. ‘Is that how you want it Harry?’

‘Yes,’ Harry moaned. ‘God yes… please… just like that and… Oh!’

Harry arched his back as Draco’s latest thrust shoved his cock in so deep he could actually see tiny stars.

‘So good… so so good…’ is all he could say as he continued to move, meeting Draco thrust for thrust. Harry’s hand had found its way back to his cock, pumping it furiously now. All he could hear was their panting breaths, the slapping sound each time they met and his own, deafeningly loud heartbeat. 

‘Harry… God what are you doing to me…’ Draco breathed.

The blond screamed as his orgasm ripped through him. Harry could feel Draco’s release fill him and push him over the edge. He bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood as he spilled himself over Draco’s heaving chest. Exhausted, Harry let himself collapse on top of the blond.

Harry’s breath was still ragged and he felt slightly dizzy from the intense heat. His head rested on Draco’s chest and he could hear the beating of the blond’s heart beneath his ear. Extremely loud and fast at first, but somewhat calming down now. Harry felt like he was in a dream state, half asleep and barely realising he spoke out loud when he said: ‘Draco Malfoy, I really really love you. Did you know that?’

He could feel the body beneath him freeze. The heartbeat sped up again and Draco released the breath he’d been holding with a whoosh that made Harry’s hair stand up. 

_Fuck._ Harry hadn’t meant to do that. Cautiously, he raised his head and looked the blond in the eyes. The look he saw there caught Harry by surprise. It was a searching look, a guarded look, but underneath lurked a vulnerability that was almost painful to see. Harry swallowed, but didn’t look away. 

Without saying anything, Draco lifted himself up, taking Harry with him. He put his feet on either side of the bench, Harry following his example. It left them in the same position they’d started out in, both straddling the bench, facing each other. 

Harry bit his bottom lip anxiously. Should he say something? Would that help? But what should he say? He opened his mouth, determined to say something, _anything_ , when Draco startled him by lunging forward and pressing a hard kiss on his lips. 

Draco pulled back slightly, placed his hands on Harry’s cheeks and cradled his face gently. The blond bit his lip, his grey eyes full of a mixture of strong emotions, some of which Harry thought he recognised. Finally, Draco tilted forward again and pressed four soft, tender kisses on Harry’s upturned face. One on each closed eye, one on the tip of Harry’s nose and the last, tantalisingly soft and lingering one on his lips. 

‘Come on,’ Draco said, standing up and reaching out a hand to pull Harry up with him. ‘It’s late. Let’s go to bed’. 


	19. Wise words

It was Saturday morning when Harry and Draco were finally able to make some time for each other. Friday had gone by in a blur, full of appointments and meetings with hardly a moment to breathe. They’d rushed from one thing to another, only stopping for a quick lunch at noon. That lunch was then quickly abandoned following the arrival of the long awaited letter from Mathilda Walker. Instead of actually eating, they’d used the time to carefully study the letter. It was formulated extremely cautiously, each word obviously weighed and calculated for effect. 

The letter extended an invitation to Harry and Luc to attend a meeting Walker arranged with her fellow leaders and a ‘key advisor’ for the Society, whatever that was supposed to mean. They’d immediately informed Hermione which led to a long, intense strategy meeting after dinner, lasting until well after midnight. When they finally collapsed on top of Draco’s bed, it took Harry mere seconds to drop off into a deep sleep. 

Right now, Harry felt pretty good. Draco and he were sharing a lovely (and late) breakfast together. Harry wouldn’t have to worry about the meeting with the Bald Eagle Society until Monday and Rita Skeeter had let him know that early Sunday morning would be the best moment for, as she called it, “operation N.M.”. Draco had rolled his eyes at the name, but seemed unwilling to challenge her since right now, she was their best hope of getting to Narcissa. 

So here they were, Draco stuffing himself with chocolate éclairs, and Harry enjoying a rather large bowl of fresh fruit and yoghurt. Draco felt it unfair of Harry to state that he was “stuffing himself” when his table manners were impeccable. Harry argued sweetly that no matter how daintily one ate éclairs, if one ate eight of them within an hour, he would still be calling it stuffing oneself. Draco just shrugged and grabbed another éclair eagerly. 

‘Pig’, snorted Harry quietly, though apparently not quietly enough.

‘I am _not_ ,’ Draco huffed.

Harry chuckled and leaned in to wipe a smudge of chocolate from the blond’s cheek. 

It was this scene of playful bickering that Luc walked in on. Draco, who sat with his back to the door, didn’t see the Frenchman walk in, but Harry did. He sat up guiltily, retracting the hand that was still lingering on Draco’s cheek. Harry saw the flicker of curiosity light up in Luc’s eyes before he covered it up quickly. 

‘Bonjour Harry, Draco. Can I share some of this gorgeous breakfast?’ Luc said, already sitting down and reaching for a piece of buttery toast. ‘Kreacher made me some breakfast before I left early this morning, but that was hours ago’. 

Draco, who had stiffened in surprise at Luc’s first words, was now composed enough to respond as the gracious host.

‘Of course. Krinkey,’ Draco called, ‘please bring Mister Luc some café au lait at once’. 

Krinkey gave a tiny nod and popped back seconds later with a large, steaming hot mug of milky coffee. 

‘Merci’. Luc took a sip from his coffee and sighed happily. ‘So… any news I should know about?’

Harry filled him in on Walker’s letter and then quickly steered the conversation away from anything awkward by enquiring after Nicole and the running of the vineyard. 

‘Nicole is doing well enough. I’m more concerned about Stéphane to be honest. He’s worrying himself silly over his wife and the baby’. Turning to Harry, he added: ‘I’ve arranged for David to assist Stéphane on the vineyard. Everything should be running smoothly now, don’t worry. We still have plenty of time before the harvest’.

Soon, Harry and Luc were engrossed in conversation about things like how much sunshine the grapes still needed and the new irrigation system Harry had his eye on. After a couple of minutes, Draco excused himself. Parkinson and Zabini would be staying at the Manor for a couple of days and Draco had planned to spend the afternoon with them in Muggle London. He stopped by some time later to say goodbye, wearing Muggle jeans and a glamour. Harry felt oddly disappointed at that, but told himself not to be silly. _Of course_ it wouldn’t be safe for Draco to go outside looking like himself, even if it _was_ in a Muggle area. Harry just didn’t like Draco, well, not quite looking or sounding like _his_ Draco he supposed.

As soon as Draco left, Luc fixed Harry with a half-amused, half-serious stare. 

‘It seems a lot has happened since I was here last. Care to fill me in?’

Harry hesitated. He knew from previous experience that trying to pull the wool over Luc’s eyes would be nothing but a waste of time. Harry felt somewhat reluctant to tell anyone about him and Draco. Right now, it was just between the two of them, like they’d created their own little world no one knew about. Bringing another person in felt like an intrusion into private world. But on the other hand… On the other hand Harry wanted nothing more than to talk to his friend. 

He _longed_ to talk about Draco, about his feelings for him, about his confusion, his happiness, his insecurity… Someone to mull things over with, someone who could help him understand Draco better, understand _himself_ better. If anyone could do that, it would be Luc.

Sensing Harry’s hesitation, Luc suggested: ‘Perhaps we could have a drink first. I brought some of the Crémant with me’. 

Harry smiled.

‘It’s barely noon,’ he gave up a token protest, already picking up the glasses Krinkey conveniently held out.

Luc raised an eyebrow and looked at him with incredulity. 

‘You’ve been away from France too long mon ami. It is _never_ too early for a fine Crémant’.

Harry laughed, took up his glass, raising it in a silent toast.

It wasn’t until their second glass of wine that Harry finally found his courage and talked.

‘I’ve never felt this way in my life. I’m utterly confused but completely certain at the same time. The depth of my feelings confuses me. _He_ confuses me. The way I feel when I look at him, when he touches me, when we’re together… I’ve fallen for him so hard it scares me’.

Harry took a deep breath and continued: ‘What I know is that I love him. I care about him, so much that it physically hurts me sometimes. He’s _everything_ to me. I want to wreak havoc on the lives of the people that have hurt him. I want to take him in my arms and never let him go. I want to snarl and lash out at anyone who ever wants to hurt him again, or even look at him in the wrong way’.

Harry closed his eyes and retreated into himself for a moment. He felt the truth of the words he’d just spoken in his very core.  He hadn’t known the depth of his feelings, not really, not until he spoke them out loud. After long moments, he looked up to see his friend smile at him kindly.

‘That’s wonderful Harry,’ he said, gently squeezing his shoulder. ‘Now tell me why you’re so worried’. 

Harry sighed heavily and hunched his shoulders defensively. He relaxed them as soon as he caught himself in the childish gesture.

‘Like I said, I’m sure of the intensity of my feelings for him. Everything else, not so much… I have no idea how he feels about me. I know there’s something there of course, that much I can tell. But he doesn’t talk about what it is between us. I… I told him I loved him and he said… nothing’. 

Harry shivered as he thought of that intense moment. He’d been enthralled by the way Draco looked at him, kissed him, so full of emotions that that had more than satisfied him at the time. Only later, when they were asleep in Harry’s bed, had the insecurities started to niggle at him again. Why hadn’t he said it back? Didn’t he love Harry in return? Not even a little bit? 

The slender arms wrapped tightly around Harry told him Draco cared for him, wanted to be near him, protect him even. The blond head resting on his shoulder told Harry he trusted him, depended on him. He _had_ to trust the words Draco’s body spoke to him, the feelings his eyed expressed even if his mouth stayed silent. For now.

‘But you know he loves you just as much…’ came Luc’s soft, confident words.

Harry looked at him, grateful that his friend only needed a few words to know what was on Harry’s mind. 

‘I do,’ Harry acknowledged. ‘And that’s enough for now. It has to be. I don’t know why Draco doesn’t say it. I don’t understand. But I can wait. I’ll wait’.

Harry looked at Luc with quiet determination. 

‘I saw the two of you together just now and you looked so… close,’ Luc said. ‘How did that happen? I mean, how did you get there so fast?’

Harry hesitated for only a minute, considering if he should tell look about the door between Draco’s room and his. Would Draco mind him sharing such a private family matter with Luc? But in the end he decided his need to talk to his friend was greater. Besides, he trusted Luc completely. 

Quickly, he told Luc all about the sudden appearance of the Door of Emmeline and how it connected the two rooms. He explained about the letter from Draco’s Grandfather and how the door had seemed to encourage them to become closer. He told Luc about the significance of the 

Luc waited a few moments before speaking, seeming to ponder his thoughts.

‘I don’t think it has anything to do with you personally Harry. Just think for a moment of what Draco has been put through. What was done to him…’

Harry was about to interrupt when Luc shook his head, silencing him.

‘That’s not what I meant. Of course you know what they did to him. You’ve seen the devastating results with your own eyes. I think it’s amazing the way he’s managed to recover as much as he has. But think about it Harry… He was not much more than a boy really when the authorities confined him to this house. All that time, he’s been here, alone. No one to care for him, no one to love him or even communicate with him’.

Luc rubbed his eyes wearily and went on.

‘I can’t imagine what that would do to a man, let alone a scared seventeen year old. Cut off from his parents, his friends, even the house elves’.

Harry swallowed, trying not to think about the boy he remembered from Hogwarts, being isolated like that. It brought back memories of another little boy, all alone in his cupboard under the stairs. Though Harry thought what Draco went through must have been so much worse, Harry had at least _some_ idea of the loneliness he must have felt. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost missed the rest of Luc’s words.

‘He hasn’t had a mature relationship in his life. He couldn’t have had, he never had the chance. I’m sure he had friendships when you were at school together, perhaps even someone to fall in love with, but he was still so young then… It’s just not the same’. 

Harry nodded in agreement.

‘I think you’re right. And it’s not just that we were young, it was also the circumstances. Voldemort’s shadow was looming over both of us all that time, I can see that now. I know he must have had a boyfriend or, you know, some sort of sexual experience because, well…’ 

Harry bit his tongue and flushed furiously.

‘Let’s just say he knew what he was doing in that department’. 

Thankfully, Luc didn’t pry any further on that particular subject. Although Harry did catch a tiny smile on his lips before he managed to hide it.

‘And after all that,’ Harry said, ’those Bald Eagle people capture him, lock him away again and bloody torture him for six months. How is he meant to trust _anyone_ , _anything_ , after that?’

Harry slammed his hand on the table in angry frustration. 

‘But he survived Harry. And he’s close to being whole again. He’s incredibly strong and resilient. I can certainly understand what you see in him’. 

‘Luc… do you…’Harry dug deep to get out the words that had been torturing him ever since he realised he was falling in love with Draco. ‘Do you think I’ve made a mistake getting involved with Draco? Am I… taking advantage of him? Is he just grateful for my help and giving me what he thinks I want?’

Harry kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to meet Luc’s eyes after he uttered the words he’d been fretting over whenever he was not in Draco’s presence. When they were together, he knew it was right. But when they were apart, that’s when the doubts crept in…

‘Harry, look at me’. 

His eyes flew up to face Luc’s at the stern words.

‘Don’t do that,’ Luc said. ‘You are a big part of why Draco is doing as well as he is. I don’t believe you have the capacity to hurt the man you love. You’re good for him, don’t ever doubt that’.

Luc smiled at him.

‘And he is good for you. I saw the two of you at breakfast earlier, remember? You looked happy. Both of you did. I’m so happy for you Harry. You deserve it. You both do’.

Harry released the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew Luc spoke the truth, he knew it before he said it, but he needed to actually _hear_ the words to be sure.

 _I can wait for Draco_ , Harry thought with certainty. _And in the meantime, I will help him crush the people that dared to hurt him._ All _of them._

Slowly, a plan started to form in his head.


	20. Operation NM

Harry felt odd, walking into St. Mungo’s basically wearing another man’s body. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to Polyjuice potion, but he knew it was the best choice in this instance. Glamours and Disillusionment charms might be detected where the use of Polyjuice potion would not.

Harry looked to his right to see a blond woman walking steadily beside him. To his left there were two men, one dark skinned with short, curly hair and one grey-haired distinguished looking gentleman. If it was odd to feel the effects of the Polyjuice on himself, it was even weirder to see three strangers walking besides him instead of his friends. 

If he looked closely though, he recognised the determined set of Hermione’s mouth in the blond woman. He saw Luc’s warm intelligence shine out of steel blue eyes instead of his normal brown ones and Draco… He didn’t even have to look at the tall, dark and handsome man to know it was still Draco inside. Harry’s heart wouldn’t be fooled like his eyes could be. Harry felt both happy and content to have the man he loved so close to him and worried and nervous that that meant that Draco was walking into an environment  that was potentially dangerous to him.

Harry had known that he would feel like that. Polyjuice potion or not, it was still dangerous for Draco to be out in the world again, never knowing if his enemies lurked nearby. When Draco ventured out in Muggle London yesterday, Harry didn’t relax until he was safely back in the Manor once more.  But Harry couldn’t possibly have asked Draco to stay behind today. It was his Mother they were going to rescue after all and Draco couldn’t have looked passively on as others carried out this mission.

So he had come and here they all were. Harry’s heart pounded in his chest as they made their way to the reception area and headed to the lifts that would carry them to the new Pureblood wing where Narcissa Malfoy was supposedly kept. They had no idea what condition they would find her in, so as a precaution, Harry had shrunk down a stretcher and his invisibility cloak and stuffed them in his pocket.

They waited in silence for the lift doors to open and admit them. Harry glanced around cautiously, trying to determine if they had caught anyone’s attention. _No_ , he decided, _probably not_. No one was looking at them with anything more than an uninterested glance, no eyes followed them. Hermione had picked their disguises well. The hairs they had used for the potion all came from Muggles, none of them living in London or easily recognisable because they had some fame in the Muggle world. They all looked perfectly ordinary, the kind of people you wouldn’t look twice at. They might look handsome, but not in an approachable kind of way. Still, Harry breathed a sigh of relief as the doors finally slid open and they could step into the lift.

‘The passage is on the sixth floor,’ Hermione said.

Draco nodded and pressed the correct button.

They were alone in the lift, which made everyone able to breathe a little easier for a while.

‘So far, so good,’ Harry said. ‘We’ll have to be careful when we get to the Pureblood wing though. Hermione, are you _sure_ that spell will allow us to enter without detection?’

Hermione nodded.

‘Yes,’ Hermione confirmed. ‘Of course they will see us entering, but that won’t matter while we’re wearing our disguise. The spell will stop the wards from recognising our true selves and they will render the tracking device unusable. They will know we have entered and left, but they won’t be able to determine who we are or where we disappeared to. All we need to make sure of is to not get caught red handed. We have to stick to the plan, get in and out within the hour. Skeeter has assured me that Nurse Jenkins will help us to make everything run smoothly. She should be the only one on the floor this early on Sunday morning so all should go according to plan. Skeeter will be waiting for us downstairs, ready to cause a distraction that will allow us to escape with Mrs Malfoy’. 

Harry was about to respond when the doors slid open and they were on the sixth floor. So instead, he just inclined his head in acknowledgement and led them down the hall, following the green line to the Pureblood wing. He could see the doors as soon as they turned the corner. They were large,  white and protected with such heavy wards that the air around it seemed to vibrate with magic. Draco hissed his breath and picked up his pace to reach the door first. He looked over his shoulder at Hermione, silently telling her to hurry up and let them in. 

Hermione closed her eyes, focussed herself and then opened her eyes again.

‘Solvo Porta Vacuus Deprehensio!’ she called softly but confidently, meanwhile making a complicated curl, twine and vicious stabbing motion with her wand. 

She watched the wards intently, breathing a sigh of relief as they flickered once, turned a soft pink and then a clear blue and parted for them.

‘Let’s go,’ she whispered, opening the white doors slightly and slipping through. 

Draco didn’t even blink, following her before the doors had a chance to swing completely shut again. Harry was next, followed closely by Luc. 

Nurse Jenkins was waiting for them on the other side of the door. She was a wispy haired, no-nonsense looking woman of about fifty. She had something trustworthy about her that Harry instantly liked. 

‘Come through to my office,’ she said urgently, leading the way to a smallish cubicle which contained a tiny desk and a round table with four chairs grouped around it. It looked like a Muggle office Harry thought. There was even a swivel chair behind the desk that the nurse rolled up to the table and sat down on. 

‘Now,’ Nurse Jenkins started, obviously preparing to come straight to the point, ‘I’ve been told that Harry Potter is among you. I’m afraid I’ll need proof of that before I’ll trust you enough to let you anywhere near one of my patients. So… which one of you is Mister Potter?’

She looked around the table questioningly. Harry sat up straight and answered her in a clear voice.

‘I am. Do you have the potion?’ he asked.

The nurse extracted a vial from her robes and handed it over silently. Harry uncorked the bottle, tipped it back and emptied it in his mouth. The sour taste made him wince before he could swallow it and wait for the effects of the Polyjuice potion to disappear. He gritted his teeth as he felt his limbs lengthen slightly, some fat around his waist disappearing and his face slowly distorting until he was wearing his own features once again. 

‘Mister Potter. A pleasure to meet you,’ Nurse Jenkins said politely. Then she narrowed her eyes and looked at him critically. ‘I’ve been told that you mean Mrs Malfoy no harm. I’m afraid I’ll need your word on that. I won’t let one of my patients walk out of this hellish place only to stumble into a different kind of hell’.

She looked at him sternly, reminding Harry of McGonagall and making him like her even more.

‘I assure you she’ll be safe with us. We have the means and the will to take good care of her in a place no one will think to look for her. You have my word on that,’ Harry assured her.

‘Good,’ she nodded. ‘Your word will always be good enough for me Mr Potter. I will ask no further. If you’ll all follow me, I’ll take you to Mrs Malfoy now’. 

She stood up and stepped out the door. They quickly followed her down a narrow hallway, round a corner and then into a large area that was decorated like a family living room in light, soothing colours and filled with soft, squishy chairs and sofas. Some soft music was playing, a harp Harry thought absently, looking around and taking in his surroundings. He hadn’t managed to identify any of the patients sitting scattered about the room, some of them slouching in a chair, some stumbling around aimlessly, when he heard Draco inhale sharply. 

Harry saw him fastening his eyes on a woman sitting by herself in a corner, staring blandly at nothing he could see. Her hair was long and blond, heavily streaked with a dull grey. She looked small and lost, not seeming to notice anything that was going on around her. 

Luc made his way over to her first. He took her hand and softly spoke to her. Harry was standing too far away from them to hear the words. He took a step forward but paused to see why Draco hadn’t made his way over yet.

Draco looked like he was nailed to the floor. His eyes were bulging and the tan skin of his Muggle disguise paled so much it started to resemble his natural colouring. Harry immediately stepped back and grabbed Draco’s hand.  

‘What is it?’ he asked urgently.

Draco blinked and swallowed, seeming to awaken from an awful dreamonly to find that it was real.

‘I… What have they done to her?’ Draco croaked. 

Nurse Jenkins looked at him with gentle compassion.

‘I see you care deeply for Mrs Malfoy. Are you some relative of hers?’ she asked. Luckily, she didn’t wait for a reply but carried on speaking: ‘I’m sorry you have to see her like that. I think it has something to do with the medication she’s under’.

‘What medication?’ Draco asked sharply. ‘Is she on some kind of potion? I don’t know of any kind of potion that would do this to her’.

The nurse shook her head in regret.

‘None of our patients on this particular ward are allowed to take potions,’ Nurse Jenkins explained. ‘She’s on several Muggle drugs, but I’m afraid I lack the training to know much about them. I just try and look after my patients as best I can, that’s all they’ll let me do. The sponsors for this wing have appointed their own Healers and they are the only ones that are allowed to administer medication’.

‘But how will we know what she’s taken and how to help her?’ Hermione’s anxious voice came from behind them.

Harry turned around, startled to find her standing right behind them. He’d forgotten about her, absorbed as he was with listening to Nurse Jenkins’ words and holding on tightly to Draco’s trembling hand at the same time. 

Harry looked over at the corner where Luc was still softly speaking to Mrs Malfoy. He had lowered himself on his knees to get down onto the same level. Harry noticed that she was still looking at nothing, her eyes wide but empty, not seeming to respond in any way to Luc’s attentions. Something was very wrong here. Harry wrapped a protective arm around Draco. _This_ Malfoy at least was safe and soon his Mother would be as well. Draco gratefully leaned into Harry and Harry squeezed him for a moment before focussing his attention back on Hermione and Nurse Jenkins.

The nurse handed Hermione a couple of what looked to be empty Muggle medicine boxes.

‘I took this from the rubbish,’ she explained. ‘I hope this will help to determine what they’ve given her and how best to treat her. You will have a Healer ready to take care of her I trust?’

Hermione nodded absently, swallowing as she examined one of the boxes.

‘What is it Hermione?’ Harry asked. ‘Do you recognise some of these boxes?’

‘Yes,’ she said quietly, not looking at them. ‘They’ve given her Nardil, which is an old style Muggle antidepressant. It is hardly used anymore because it has so many adverse side effects and can interact badly with certain types of food and other Muggle drugs. I researched antidepressants after the war, when my Mum suffered severe depression as a result of the Memory Charm I used on her’. 

Harry remembered that well. Though Hermione had done what she thought was best at the time and thereby perhaps saved her parents’ lives, she also caused them great sorrow. She still felt guilty about that, even though they had long forgiven her. Harry smiled at her warmly, trying to ease his friend without having to let go of Draco, which he wasn’t prepared to do right now.

Hermione gave a brave smile back and then seemed to shake herself. 

‘Come on,’ she said, ‘we don’t have time for this. We have only about twenty minutes left before the effects of the Polyjuice potion wears out. I’ll just take these boxes with us and I’m sure our Healer will know what to do’.

She walked up to join Luc and Mrs Malfoy. Harry still didn’t release Draco, but guided him to his mother gently. Draco leaned on him heavily, but once he stood in front of his mother, he disentangled himself from Harry, bent his knees and placed a gentle hand on his mother’s cheek.

‘Mother?’ he asked softly. ‘We’re taking you home now. Will you come with us?’ 

His tone was so warm and loving that it made Harry ache for Draco to speak to _him_ like that. He quickly told himself not to be so selfish and focussed his attention on Mrs Malfoy instead. 

This time there did seem to be some sort of reaction. It wasn’t much, but her eyes did seem to focus on her son. Harry wouldn’t say he saw any recognition there, but it did feel like a start at least.

‘Come on Mother,’ Draco coaxed gently. ‘Can you stand? Harry, can you get the stretcher out please?’

Harry hastened to take out the shrunken stretcher, enlarged it and floated it over to them. Luc and Draco carefully helped Mrs Malfoy on it and she lay down without complaint. Harry covered her with the invisibility cloak and they quickly made their way toward the exit. Harry worried for a moment that one of the other patients in the room would try and stop them, but as he looked around the room, he noticed they were just as sedated as Mrs Malfoy was. Harry felt hot anger and pity rise up in him. He would have to do something to help every one of these patients somehow. He’d make sure and incorporate that with Hermione’s plan one way or another…

Nurse Jenkins was waiting for them at the white doors.

‘Mister Potter, aren’t you forgetting something?’ she chided.

Hermione gasped.

‘Merlin Harry, we almost left without you taking another batch of Polyjuice potion! Thank you!’ Hermione said.

Harry felt like an idiot as he quickly swallowed another sip of the potion and felt himself changing again. He waited until he saw Hermione’s satisfied nod before following her through the doors. 

They made their way back to the lifts without any incident. Hermione and Luc walked a couple of paces in front, their wands discretely at the ready. Draco was the one floating the invisible stretcher in front of him while Harry covered their backs. They waited for an empty lift to take them down to the entrance hall. 

While they were in the lift, Harry’s heart sped up again. All of them looked serious and extremely focussed. The hospital had been nearly empty, but the entrance hall was always bustling with Healers, visitors and patients. Also, Skeeter had warned them that there might be some more wards that would set off an alarm the moment a patient crossed them. Harry watched the numbers go down from 5 to 4, 3, 2, 1… He took a deep breath and tried to look calm as they exited the lift.

The hall was a lot more crowded then when they entered the hospital this morning. No alarm bells started chiming just yet, which caused Harry to breathe a little easier. 

It was very difficult to float out an invisible stretcher with so many wizards walking around them. Harry could see Draco sweat, desperately trying to avoid bumping into anyone. He managed it alright, until a large, bulky man strode up to them without paying any attention to his surroundings. He walked right into the stretcher and cursed aloud. Harry managed to cast a quick “Obliviate”, but the damage had already been done.  Several heads turned in their directions even as the Obliviated man stumbled on with a blank expression. 

Harry almost started to panic when he was suddenly startled by a loud, female voice booming through the hall.

‘It’s a disgrace I tell you! We are assured by the Ministry again and again that St Mungo’s security system is impenetrable. Ha! I have proof that it is in fact childishly easy to fool your atrocious wards. And you can read all about it in the next issue of the Oracle’. 

Harry felt almost giddy with relief as he recognised Skeeter’s scandalised voice. She had promised to cause a distraction and she had delivered. All eyes were on her now, allowing Harry and his friends to manoeuvre through the crowd unnoticed. Skeeter was talking on and on, accusing the hospital of lax security and general incompetence. A small crowd of curious onlookers had started to form around her. The reception witch looked highly embarrassed and slightly angry as she tried to get Skeeter to lower her voice.

They had almost made it to the exit when a shrill alarm went off. Within seconds, several tall wizards appeared, all in red Muggle style uniforms with a small emblem of what looked like a bird of prey on their lapels. _That must be a silhouette of a bald eagle_ , Harry realised. He thought he recognised it from the Head Office of the Society. The wizards looked around the hall, shouting at each other to spread around. 

‘Come on!’ Hermione snapped. ‘We can make it. Draco is outside already. They don’t know who they’re looking for yet. Let’s _go_!’

Without another thought, Harry rushed at the door, only checking once to see if Luc was following. Satisfied that he was, Harry walked as fast as he could without running. Almost out the door, he still caught part of Skeeter’s triumphant words.

‘You see!’ she cried. ‘Completely inadequate ward!. As an experiment I abducted one of the patients earlier, with their consent of course, to test my theories about the holes in your security system. And I was _righ_ t! Only _now_ does the alarm go off, when  the patient has been gone and returned safely to his bed over an hour ago!  It’s completely ridiculous and I would laugh if it weren’t such a serious matter. Wait until the exposé is published in this week’s issue of the Oracle, then you will all…’ 

That was all Harry heard before he reached the apparition point and was out of earshot. He waited until Luc, Hermione and Draco with Narcissa had apparated. He looked around, but none of the guard wizards had followed them out yet. _Fools_ , Harry thought, smiling viciously. Hesitating no longer, he twisted around and disapparated.


	21. Thin line

Harry stood back a little as he watched Draco hovering protectively around his Mother. He would have liked to be sitting on the bed, holding his Mother’s hand Harry thought, but that would mean getting in the way of Healer Kirke. So Draco kept a respectful distance, but his eyes and all his focus was centred on the pale blond woman lying on the large bed in the Master Suite of Malfoy Manor.

Healer Kirke was examining her with sure and precise movements. Hermione had told them that she was a half-blood witch, trained both as a Muggle physician and as a Healer, making her the perfect candidate for this job. So far, she had used a mixture of Muggle and Wizard means of examination. She had taken blood samples but also cast many diagnostic spells. 

Harry looked back from the Healer and concentrated on Draco instead. He looked so very _pale_ , so anxious… Harry wanted to touch him, comfort him somehow, but he didn’t know how welcome the gesture would be right now. So he opted to stay close enough for Draco to initiate a comforting touch if he needed it, but never initiated one himself.

The silence in the room was beginning to make Harry feel uncomfortable. Only Draco, Mrs Malfoy, Healer Kirke and Harry himself were in the room. Even the elves had been banished from the room, because their wails, sobs and wringing hands at the sight of their Mistress in distress, were not exactly helping. The only sound now though, were the rustling of Healer Kirke’s robes as she moved around the bed and an occasional soft spoken spell. Not wanting to disturb her concentration, even Harry’s breathing seemed to become offensively loud. 

‘Mr Malfoy… I’m afraid the news isn’t good’.

Harry looked up as Healer Kirke began speaking. Her tone was that of Muggle doctors and Healers alike, calm, kind and slightly distant. 

‘Just tell me’,  Draco said. 

Someone who didn’t know him as well as Harry did, might have thought his tone cold, slightly indifferent even. But Harry read the subtle signs, the line of worry round a tight mouth, the hint of desperation buried deep in those iron steel eyes. Healer Kirke, who must have seen many different ways of dealing with bad news, recognized it too. Her eyes shone with compassion, but she offered no consoling words. Instead she gave Draco what he most needed, information, as much as she could give.

‘It seems Mrs Malfoy has indeed been under the influence of an old style Muggle anti-depressant, as Mrs Granger  told you. I have reason to believe the so called Healers that prescribed the drugs to be lacking knowledge and proper training to administer any kind of drugs or potions, let alone a drug as complicated as this. There is a reason Muggle doctors rarely prescribe it any more. It can react strongly with common foods such as tomato, yoghurt, chocolate and many other things. If they believed Mrs Malfoy needed this medication, which I sincerely doubt, they should have kept her on a very strict diet. My preliminary findings show me that they haven’t. I’ve found traces of certain foods that should have been avoided at all costs in her stomach and digestive system  and I’ve also found some troublesome things in her blood. You see, besides food, there are also other Muggle drugs that should be avoided while taking Nardil, like alcohol, cold medicine and migraine medication, all of which I’ve found traces off. I do not believe this to be a coincidence’.

‘Why not?’ Draco asked sharply.

Healer Kirke gave a small, ambiguous smile and continued: ‘I believe the “Healers” to be incompetent, yes, but foods and drugs to avoid are stated plainly on the sheet of patient instructions that are always enclosed with any Muggle drugs. Also, why would they choose Nardil, when there are many alternatives on the market that have not nearly such a long list of risks and side effects? No, I believe this was a deliberate choice, a course taken to cause damage, not to help’. 

Her eyes had gone hard and cold on that statement, making it clear what she thought of any medical professional who would take such a course of action. Draco inclined his head, thanking her for the unspoken statement. He swallowed and took a little time before asking the next question.

‘So… about these side effects… What exactly _are_ they? And will any of those… effects be permanent?’ Draco asked. He didn’t look away, piercing the Healer with his eyes, searching for the truth no matter how harsh it might be. Harry felt his heart swell with pride as he saw Draco be strong under such difficult circumstances. 

‘I’m afraid it is too soon to tell if Mrs Malfoy will fully recover. As I said, she’s obviously been given Nardil for quite a while, I would say months at least. She will have to be taken off the medication gradually, as a sudden stop would cause severe withdrawal symptoms to occur. This comatose-like state is almost certainly the effect of a combination of Muggle drugs that should never have been combined in the first place. I won’t be able to assess any permanent damage until she’s fully conscious’.

Draco staggered and paled even further and before Harry could think about it, he stepped forward and put an arm around the blond’s shoulder. He had no time to regret his decision though, because Draco leaned into him gratefully, as if he’d been waiting for the support. Harry silently scolded himself for being so cautious and denying Draco the support he so obviously craved. 

‘What kind of permanent damage are you concerned about?’ Draco asked in a quiet voice.

‘I’m uncomfortable speculating about that at this stage’. Healer Kirke hesitated a moment before continuing: ‘But I don’t wish you to worry yourself needlessly. I see no evidence of her having suffered seizures or a stroke, which are important risks for patients using Nardil. Her heart is beating strongly and all vital organs seem to be functioning normally. It will be about a week before your Mother will be conscious enough to participate in any of the tests I would need to perform. That will also give me enough time to process the Muggle tests I’ve taken samples for’.

‘Is there anything we can do for her?’ Draco asked, looking at Mrs Malfoy’s motionless body with a helplessness that made Harry squeeze him and stroke his back in soothing motions. Draco took the time to look at him and smile gratefully. 

‘She will need to be monitored closely. I have set up the necessary spells and will come and check on her daily. I would advise you to have a full-time nurse attending Mrs Malfoy however. Would you be able to arrange that?’ she asked.

‘I’m sure we will be,’ Draco assured her. ‘Thank you for your help. We’ll see you around the same time tomorrow?’

Healer Kirke nodded.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘And if you need me before that, Mrs Granger has my emergency floo address so you can contact me at any time’.

She gave Draco a few more instructions and checked Mrs Malfoy’s vital signs and magical core one more time before leaving.

 Draco immediately stepped forward and sat down on the bed. He used his right hand to comb through his Mother’s long, blond locks while he used the other to pull Harry with him. Harry stumbled forward awkwardly, but then regained his balance and sat down next to Draco. He slid an arm around Draco’s waist and pressed a kiss in the back of his neck. Draco didn’t look at Harry, but he did relax a little and let himself lean against Harry.

 

* * *

 

It took three house elves, a determined Hermione, a rude Blaise and a lot of talking on Harry’s part to persuade Draco to leave his Mother’s bedside and come down for dinner. Harry and Draco had been sat at Mrs Malfoy’s side all day, taking lunch there as well. They had taken the opportunity to talk quietly and Harry had loved every minute of it. But he agreed with Hermione and Blaise, Draco should have a good meal and then some rest.

What clinched it was the arrival of Nurse Jenkins. Apparently, the disappearance of Mrs Malfoy had been noticed and she had been blamed. Hermione, never one to hesitate when a good opportunity came up, quickly contacted her after Skeeter gave them the news and contracted her for taking care of Mrs Malfoy.

‘Do they have any idea what happened?’ Harry asked, slightly tensed.

The nurse shook her head.

‘No. That was some clever spell work young lady. I could tell they had no idea how she got out. Not liking to admit that, they chose to believe I must have not been keeping an eye on the patients, allowing them to wander off unnoticed. So they fired me’. Nurse Jenkins snorted.

Hermione, still blushing from the compliment, immediately looked guilty. 

‘I’m so sorry. That wasn’t meant to happen’.

‘Nonsense my dear,’ Nurse Jenkins waved her concern away. ‘I wasn’t doing any good where I was anyway. And I’m happy to be able to look after Mrs Malfoy still at least’.

She looked a bit worried though, no doubt contemplating the fate of the patients she’d had to leave behind.

‘Don’t worry Nurse Jenkins,’ Harry said. ‘We’ll find some way to help all of the patients. In fact, I’m sure you could be a great help , knowing everything about the ward and all’.

‘Good,’ she replied. ‘Now go along all of you! Go and have some dinner and leave me to take care of Mrs Malfoy’.

She shooed them out of the room and even Draco obediently left with only two looks back.

‘She’ll be alright,’ Harry assured Draco, taking his hand and squeezing it for a moment. He quickly let go as he saw Blaise look at them oddly. Draco noticed and looked a little annoyed at Harry.

 ‘Why do keep doing that?’ he hissed. ‘Why do you care if my friends or yours know about us?’

Harry’s first instinct was to ask what exactly that “us” meant. What was there to tell? That they were together? That they were in love? Were lovers? Or something more even?

Draco, annoyed at not getting an answer quick enough, turned away from Harry and stomped down the stairs.

* * *

 

The house elves had cooked up a seven course feast in celebration of their Mistress’s return. Of course Mrs Malfoy wasn’t ready to appreciate such a gesture, but they made do with the enjoyment of the relatively large group of people gathered around the dinner table. 

Blaise and Pansy were there and Luc, Draco and Harry of course. Hermione and Ron had managed to get George to babysit, leaving them both free to join them for dinner. Together, they ate their way through seven courses of the most delicious of foods. Harry particularly enjoyed the smoked salmon, but not as much as the choice of sweets they had as dessert. 

Draco was a bit sullen at the start of the meal, but he warmed up a bit by the time course three arrived. At the end of the meal, he even let Harry feed him some of the dark chocolate mousse from his plate.

Again Harry caught Blaise looking at them, but this time he stubbornly ignored him, scooping up another spoonful of the delicious mousse for Draco to lick off the spoon. Soon, all other guests were forgotten as  Harry watched that pink tongue curling languidly around the spoon. He suspected that his own mouth was hanging open, but didn’t really care. He cared much more about the teasing look in silvery eyes, the soft fall of blond hair on a pale cheek, the slight curve of a smile around pink lips…

‘Ahem,’ Blaise cleared his throat.

Harry tried not to cringe as he slowly came back to himself and looked around the table to the people gathered there. There was Blaise, mocking him with a raised eyebrow. Luc, Pansy and Hermione only looked amused and Ron completely oblivious. 

Harry looked next to him to see Draco smugly digging into more of the chocolate mousse. Trying to act casual, he swatted Draco’s hand away and started scraping up the last of the mousse himself. Draco’s grin widened even further and he was positively shining so pleased with himself did he look. Even Ron noticed, looking back and forth between the two of them with a puzzled expression.

‘You know, it’s so funny being here like this with you all,’ Pansy pondered suddenly. ‘I mean, we didn’t exactly get on while we were at Hogwarts, did we… You and Harry especially, remember Draco dear? And now you look to be such good _friends_ , isn’t that funny?’

She looked at Draco with a devilish smile, a smile that made him sit up straight and hiss her name under his breath.

‘What?’ she asked, making large, innocent eyes at her friend. ‘Did I say something wrong? I mean, I’m sure you’ve told Potter all about how you had a big major crush on him back then, didn’t you? Remember how he mooned about Potter Blaise? It was disgusting really’.

‘I did _not_ moon over Harry or anyone else for that matter!’ Draco exploded.

Blaise nodded, putting on his most serious expression. Of course that didn’t really work out well with his dark eyes twinkling with mischief the whole time.

‘O yes,’ he said, ‘I remember it well. All the “I hate Potter although he does have a nice arse” type of comments…’ 

‘Not true,’ Draco muttered, although he did go from pale to pink, to bright red in under sixty seconds Harry noticed gleefully.

Draco looked at him pleadingly to intervene, but Harry was having much too great a time.

‘Oh come on Draco. We shared a dorm for years, remember?’ Blaise said with a wicked smile. ‘What can I say, you never were any good at the silencing charms were you’. 

Draco’s mouth fell open in horror as laughter erupted all around him. 


	22. Their own weapons

Harry was unable to persuade Draco away from his mother’s bedside during the night. Instead, Draco made the house elves bring in a comfortable bed and slept next to her. Or tried to anyway. Harry went in to check on him twice during the night, and both times Draco was lying wide awake, staring at his mother almost without blinking. 

When he came in to fetch Draco for breakfast early Monday morning, he found the blond gone. He hurried down the stairs and found Draco moping over a delicious looking, but hardly touched breakfast.

‘Morning’.

Harry smiled at the grumbling response he got to his greeting. His smile vanished as he looked at the state of Draco. He looked much too pale, exhausted and dishevelled. 

‘You look awful,’ he said worriedly. ‘You need to take better care of yourself Draco. Or let me do it for you’. 

Harry walked up behind Draco, slid his arms down the sides of the blond’s arms and bent over to kiss the blond head. Draco didn’t turn around, but he did reach up a hand to pull Harry’s head down further. Harry went with it, nuzzling the soft skin of Draco’s neck and pressing a kiss at the base. He stood there for a little while, enjoying the closeness, the warmth, the intimacy… 

‘Come sit down’.

Draco’s words broke the comfortable silence between them. Harry reluctantly let him go and sat down in the chair next to him. He felt instantly gratified as Draco immediately pulled his own chair closer, not seeming satisfied until their thighs were snugly pressed together and a slender, pale hand rested just above Harry’s knee. 

‘You should eat something. Your mother will need you to keep up your strength,’ Harry said softly. 

Draco looked like he was about to object but then decided against it at the last minute. He sighed, picked up a piece of buttery toast and bit into it without enthusiasm. Harry placed his hand over Draco’s, still lying on his thigh and pressed it briefly in thanks. 

Harry further coaxed Draco into eating a bit of salmon and some fruit before allowing him to go back to his mother’s rooms. Parkinson and Zabini were late sleepers, leaving them to enjoy their breakfast in only each other’s company. Harry even managed to convince Draco to take a little walk on the grounds with him. And even though Draco was mostly silently brooding while they walked, Harry still thought he had a bit more colour in his cheeks when he went back to Mrs Malfoy’s rooms and was happy for it.

* * *

 

‘I’m pleased to tell you all that we’ve achieved several successes already,’ Hermione said, letting her eyes glide over all the faces gathered in the huge hall. 

They were having the meeting in the same ballroom as they had the last one, but Hermione had made them vanish several walls to enlarge it and hold almost double the amount of people it held before. She’d started the meeting with the announcement that she would be running for Minister of Magic with Harry’s support. The roaring applause that met that statement, had sent a flush to her cheeks but she had gathered herself up quickly and moved on.

Not everyone had applauded of course. Harry had been keeping a sharp eye out for anyone looking like they disapproved of Hermione’s bid for Minister. There had been none. Harry felt he should have realised that, seeing as Hermione was the one who brought everyone here together like this. He was amazed to see how Hermione had grown in the last couple of years.  She’d always been full of potential, but to see all that potential come to life, filled him with pride.

He noticed the people who didn’t clap. They mostly looked too baffled to clap, and a handful still looked cautious. _Nothing wrong with that_ , Harry decided. He turned his attention back to Hermione’s speech.

‘Have you looked around you? Have you seen how many of you there are? I tell you, this is only the tip of the iceberg. The wizarding community is fed up with Scrimgeour and the Minister is too preoccupied to even notice. He fears the wrath of the Muggle borns. He assumes all of us blame the purebloods for what happened under Voldemort’s terror.  And I won’t deny that there were many Muggle borns, including myself, who didn’t long for revenge on those that supported Voldemort and tortured and murdered in his name’.

Hermione looked around the room before continuing.

‘But the war is long past now. It is true that Voldemort found most of his supporters among purebloods, but that is not the same as saying that every pureblood was a Death Eater as most of us are well aware’.

Hermione grimaced. 

‘We are smarter than the Minister gives us credit for. He is blinded by a small group of fanatics like the Bald Eagle Society and fails to see how the majority of his people feel. We will _make_ him see it. We will start by bringing down the Bald Eagle Society. I’ll give the floor to Harry Potter now, who will tell you more about our plans’.

She stepped down, making room for Harry. He swallowed as he saw hundreds of eager faces turning in his direction. He wanted to search for a pair of grey eyes to anchor him, but Draco had chosen to stay with his mother instead of attending today’s meeting.

‘Right. Er…’ Harry stumbled. ‘I think I know enough about the Bald Eagle Society now to establish their weaknesses. I have a meeting with them later today, in which I hope to gather more evidence against them’.

His eyes darkened as he thought back to the torture they put Draco through. That thought steadied him enough to continue with confidence.

‘They fight with Muggle weapons. They’ve been successful so far, because not many wizards take the time to learn anything about Muggle inventions, judging them to be inferior to anything magic can do. That is how Mathilda Walker and her people can cause the damage that they do. Because we underestimate them. But I do not,’ Harry said, looking grim. ‘I’ve seen what they can do. They are dangerous, but they are also blind. They forget that we have been oppressed before, many times throughout history. We’ve survived because we’ve learned to adapt. And that is what we will do again. And we will do it by using their own weapons against them’.

* * *

 

Draco looked up at Harry and gave him a tired a smile. 

‘How did it go?’ he asked.

‘Well I think,’ Harry answered, sitting down on the arm rest of Draco’s chair and leaning in for a quick kiss.

‘George Weasley has agreed to help us with adapting Muggle devices to work in a magical environment. He’s had some experiences doing that with mobile phones and Ipods already. It’s a Muggle musical device,’ he clarified after seeing Draco’s puzzled look. ‘A couple of other Muggle borns volunteered to help. George expects it won’t take him very long, a week at the most. And the mobile phone he gave me will do fine for now’.

‘How will a Muggle floo device help you bring those bastards from the Bald Eagle Society down?’ Draco asked worriedly. 

Harry smiled.

‘Look, it has a camera, see? It can record images and sounds just like that’.

Harry demonstrated the feature, first filming himself stroking Draco’s hair and then showing back the footage. 

‘Pretty impressive, isn’t it?’ Harry asked smugly. ‘I’ll be taking it with me to the meeting later. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get plenty of incriminating footage to use as evidence’. 

Draco was quiet for a few moments, seemingly deep in thought. He looked at his mother, who was still unresponsive and barely conscious, with a pained expression before closing his eyes. Finally, he opened them and looked Harry in the eyes.

‘Just… please be careful Harry,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. Please…I couldn’t…’ 

Draco didn’t seem able to say more. Instead, he looked at Harry with desperate eyes, trying to bring the message across without actually saying the words. Harry swallowed. 

‘Of course,’ he whispered back. ‘Of course I will. Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to me. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine…’

He spoke the words calmly, while gently stroking Draco’s back. Suddenly, Draco flung his arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him close. Harry almost fell off the arm rest in shock, but he steadied himself and clenched his arms tightly around the blond.

* * *

 

‘Mister Potter. Mister Martin. Thank you both for coming’.

Mathilda Walker welcomed him with a smile that showed too much teeth to be called friendly. 

‘It’s Harry remember?’ Harry chided her mildly. ‘Now, will you introduce us to your guests please?’

He touched his robes briefly, checking to see if the Muggle phone was still securely in place. He’d put it in the breast pocket of his robes earlier, charming part of it one-way transparent so the cloth wouldn’t block the lens. The conference room they were lead in had detection wards for wizard bugging devices such as extendable ears Harry noticed, but nothing that would raise an alarm for a simple Muggle phone.

‘This is my right-hand man, Reginald Chubb. I believe you’ve met during your last visit to us,’ Walker said.

‘We did,’ Harry acknowledged, shook the extended hand and waited for the next introduction. 

‘Next to him is Joanna Alden. She’s been with us from the start. She operates in the field mostly, but I asked her to sit in on this meeting’.

‘Mss Alden,’ Harry said, shaking her hand.

‘An honour to meet you Mister Potter. You’re quite an inspiration to us all,’ Alden gushed.

Harry smiled blandly and moved along.

‘And this is Gabriel Harper. He’s the one who deals with the public side of things,’ Walker continued. 

Harry looked at the tall, dark haired man and instantly disliked him. He had a smile that some people would call charming, but Harry could only consider fake. His whole appearance was entirely too smooth and slick. He quickly shook the man’s hand, barely resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his trousers after.

‘Now, please Harry, sit down’ Walker said. ‘You too Luc. We have a lot to discuss’. 

Harry took the offered seat, crossed his arms and sat back. He waited silently for Walker to begin talking, angling his body so that the phone camera was in a good enough position. The wizards and witches around him shifted uncomfortably as the silence endured. It was Luc that eventually broke it.

‘Well now Messieurs, Mesdames. We have come to hear your tale. So let us hear it’.

His voice startled them. They turned toward Luc in surprise, as if they’d forgotten he was there. Walker was the first to recover.

‘Right. Of course. But, you must understand how… sensitive the information I’m about to give you is. May I ask for a token of trust in return?’

She looked at Harry with an apologetic smile on her lips that didn’t reach her cold eyes. Again Harry was grateful for Luc’s glamour, concealing the surprise he felt. With not much other choice, Harry smiled graciously and said: ‘Of course. What is it that you would ask of me?’

‘Only some information Harry, nothing more. It’s come to my attention that one of the… patients on the pureblood ward in St Mungo’s has… disappeared. Knowing your connection to this particular family, I did wonder if perhaps you knew something about that?’ she asked, staring at him intently.

Harry willed his heart rate to slow down and forced his breathing to stay calm and even lest anyone notice how her words affected him. 

‘And what family is that I wonder?’ Harry asked, with a voice that he was relieved to hear sounded like nothing more than a little curious.

‘Come now Harry. You are among friends here. I only want to know what’s happened to her, that’s all. I know how you feel about that family, or I wouldn’t have sent the youngest one to you as a gift now would I? The patriarch of the family died in Azkaban five years ago so only the Lady of the house still remained. Or as I should say, the woman who was _once_ the Lady of the house? I believe you’ve taken up residence in Malfoy Manor since, haven’t you?’ she asked shrewdly. 

Harry couldn’t disguise the sharp intake of breath at her last words. He hadn’t realised she knew where he lived. Before he could ask the question, she answered it for him.

‘Mister Campbell is one of our loyal supporters. Of course he told us all about the sale of the Manor’.

Harry recovered himself enough to think quickly before saying: ‘I see. Well, it seems there’s no use denying it now. Yes, I had something to do with Mrs Malfoy’s abduction. Let’s just say I was… anxious for her to join her son’s fate’.

He gave them a stoic glare, his thumping heartbeat not audible to anyone but himself.

‘I knew it would be something like that,’ came Alden’s girlish voice. She was a pretty blond woman who had to be over thirty at least, but still had the appearance of a girl about her. _She must get underestimated a lot_ , Harry thought. _I will not make that mistake_. 

Harry knew he was in the company of dangerous people here. They might not look it, but he knew them to be responsible for many horrid things, including the torture of Draco. But now, they were all looking at him conspiratorially, like Harry was one of them. Harry repressed a revolted shudder. But that was what they were supposed to think, wasn’t it? 

‘Now,’ Harry said. ‘Tell me everything’.


	23. Learning more

‘Did it work?’ Draco asked anxiously.

‘Hang on a minute,’ Hermione snapped.

Draco looked at her with disdain, but held his tongue.

‘Don’t worry Draco, Hermione’, Luc said in calm, soothing tones. ‘We already know it works, remember? Harry and I checked right after we left. The scenes appeared on the tiny screen of the phone perfectly fine. It’s just a matter of getting it to work on that big screen’.

Luc waved an absent hand to indicate the brand new Muggle flat screen tv, that was so huge, it covered most of the wall. 

‘Of course it’ll work,’ Harry agreed. ‘Just give Hermione a moment to figure it out. She’s brilliant, remember? She’ll do it’.

Hermione looked over her shoulder and gave him a slightly startled but genuinely pleased smile. Then she turned back to the manual and assorted wires with a new determination. Harry shook his head in wonder as he watched his friend at work. How could it come as a surprise to her that anyone would think she was brilliant? 

‘Aha!’ Hermione exclaimed with satisfaction.

Harry looked up at the screen, and sure enough, it flickered to life and images appeared as if by magic. They cheered and applauded but were quickly shushed by Hermione.

‘I want to hear everything. You can congratulate me later,’ she said absently, focussing all her attention on the screen and completely ignoring the men. They quickly followed her example, watching the footage in silence.

Draco gasped and grabbed Harry’s arm tightly as they watched Walker question Harry about Mrs Malfoy’s disappearance. Harry placed his hand over Draco’s and pressed down reassuringly. Draco’s whole body tensed up and he stared at the screen without blinking. As he watched Harry talk himself out of trouble, Draco relaxed and gave Harry a tiny nod of approval. Harry flushed and quickly looked back at the screen. He watched as Walker started telling them all about the founding of the Bald Eagle Society.

 _‘After the war, I was fed up with pureblood superiority,’_ Walker said. Her face hardened as she continued: _‘It angered me to see a group of people that encouraged, helped or at the very least did nothing to stop Voldemort singling out Muggle-borns, live on like nothing had ever happened. I mean, he was harassing, torturing and even killing Muggle-borns right under their very noses! They_ still _seemed to believe in their own prejudice,_ still _seemed to think they were superior to Muggle-borns and half bloods, based solely on the so- called “purity” of their blood’._

She paused for a bit, looking as if she was trying to control her anger. Harry used those moments to quickly study the expressions of the others around the table. Chubb looked stern, his mouth a thin line of repressed anger. Harper’s face was like a mask. The man looked too slick to reveal much of anything, although Harry did notice the cold gleam of his dark eyes. Harry turned his attention to Alden and sat up in surprise. Her girlish looks were in complete contradiction with the ice cold of her light blue eyes. They made Harper’s eyes look positively warm and inviting in comparison. 

Neither Luc nor Harry were visible on screen, seeing as the phone had been in Harry’s breast pocket and Luc had been sitting next to him, out of reach for the camera’s lens. Still, Harry knew the exact moment his eyes flickered from Walker to Alden. He saw Alden’s tiny jolt and then her face smoothed out into the bland, innocently girlish expression once more. _Yes_ , Harry thought, _I must definitely keep my eye on her. I think she might be the most dangerous one of them all_.

He turned his focus back on Walker as she continued her story.

 _‘No one else seemed to care. Or not enough at any rate,’_ she said. _‘After all we went through, after all the damage Voldemort caused, in the end to the purebloods as much as to the rest of us, they still didn’t_ see _. They wanted to go back to their old lives, acting like nothing had changed. Like they hadn’t learned a thing. Take the Malfoys for instance… Lucius Malfoy was the only one who served any real time in Azkaban. His wife was proclaimed too “delicate” to handle prison life. She was taken to St Mungo’s after only a month or so. At least we made sure she was one of the first to be moved to our own wing as soon as it opened. The pampering ended at that, I assure you’._

Her smile was sickening. Harry quickly scooted closer to Draco, who was sitting on the plush sofa next to him, and snaked his arm around the blond’s middle. Draco didn’t look up, but he let himself be pulled closer without complaint. Harry didn’t care if Luc and Hermione saw. Luc already knew about them anyway, and after the “chocolate mousse eating incident” yesterday, the cat was well and truly out of the bag. 

Walker’s voice grabbed his attention once more as she started talking about Draco.

_‘And what about the son? House arrest? Seriously? Lock the spoilt little prince in his castle with all of his pretty things? Oh yes, they took his obedient little house elves away, severe punishment I am sure. The prat might need to make his own breakfast for a change. The horror!’_

Walker laughed at her own little joke and the others laughed with her. Harry could hear his own laugh joining them from behind the camera and squeezed Draco in apology. The blond leaned into him and Harry knew himself forgiven. He pressed a little kiss just below Draco’s ear before steeling himself to hear the rest of Walker’s story.

 _‘I knew I wanted to_ do _something, but hadn’t a clue what. That’s where dear Joanna came in.’_ She smiled warmly as she looked at the blond woman sitting next to her. _‘Joanna and I go way back. We were friends at Hogwarts you know, even though I was sorted in Gryffindor house and Joanna here in Ravenclaw. It didn’t matter. We’ve basically been inseparable since we were eleven’._

Alden nodded with a sugary smile on her face and continued where Walker had left off. 

_‘I felt much the same way Mathilda did. I’m a half blood you see, my Mum was a witch. Her family always looked down on us, refused to acknowledge us, and that didn’t change after the war. They didn’t even care that both my Mum, my Dad and my sister were killed by Death Eaters. They_ still _ignored me and my little brother. Even though they were the only family we had left,’_ she said. The bitter smile on her face almost made her look ugly. 

_‘But those Death Eaters did give me one thing. Their weakness was exposed to me on the night they took my family. I was at my parents house, having been invited to dinner. We’d just finished and my little brother Darren and I were in the kitchen doing the dishes when they were suddenly filling the house. I still don’t know where they came from. They were suddenly just… there’._ She shivered visibly. _‘One of them came into the kitchen and tried to grab me from behind. I still had one of the large kitchen knives in my hand. Without thinking about it, I stabbed the knife behind me. When I felt the resistance of flesh, I just kept pushing. I saw my little brother looking at me with such fear… I kept stabbing and stabbing backwards and when he finally fell away from me I followed him down and stabbed him until he stopped moving. There was so much blood… My head was all over the place. There were so many of them, I could hear them all over the house. All I could think of was that I needed to get Darren out of there. So I ran through the kitchen door into the back yard. I dragged Darren by his hand and as soon as we were free of the apparition wards, I apparated us out’._

Chubb and Harper looked at their fellow Society member with sympathy, obviously having heard the tale before. Walker padded Alden’s hand softly and looked at her encouragingly. Alden looked as if she wanted to go on, but couldn’t. In the end, Walker continued for her.

 _‘By the time she’d found Darren a safe place at the house of her Muggle aunt, it was too late for the rest of the family. They were found about 2 miles from the house, in a heavily wooded area. The Dark Mark was hovering over them, guiding the Aurors to their bodies’._ Walker’s lips twisted in a dark smile. _‘But it did teach us something crucial. The Death Eater that attacked Joanna had been carrying his wand, but still was no match for a simple Muggle kitchen knife. Muggles have invented the most amazing things over the centuries, but purebloods look down on every one of them. They have no idea of the possibilities Muggle inventions could offer them, because they just assume that any Muggle inventions must be inferior to what magic can create’._

‘That’s true you know…’ Hermione mumbled. ‘I for one prefer talking to my parents on my Muggle phone over crouching on my knees to talk through the floo any day’.

Walker was saying much the same thing on screen.

_‘And what about the internet? So much more convenient than searching for information in some musty old library filled with ancient, mouldy books’._

Hermione looked like she wanted to object to that one, obviously taking the derogatory comment against books and libraries as a personal insult. But Draco shushed her and they turned their attention back to the screen.

 _‘And what about Muggle weapons,’_ Chubb cut in. _‘A wand is no defence against a pulled trigger. And a shield charm won’t stop a Muggle bullet anyway. Goyle senior found that out the hard way. Too bad for him that he didn’t live long enough to spread that wisdom, eh?’_ He chuckled and looked straight in the camera with an ugly, self-satisfied smirk.

Harry zoned out as he heard the other members recount their stories about how they had come to join the Bald Eagle Society. Chubb had joined to get some petty revenge on some of his old schoolmates. He’d been sorted into Slytherin and his housemates had made him feel like a pariah for being a Muggle born. Harper remained vague, only saying something about being a victim of Death Eater Muggle bating. The man kept his cards close to the chest. Of all the people in that room, Harry felt he knew the least about Harper.

Instead of listening to the rest of it, he shuffled himself even closer to Draco, placing his free hand on the blond’s knee. He pushed his face in the soft hair that only just curled over the collar of Draco’s Muggle shirt. He sniffed the citrusy scent appreciatively and nuzzled the blond strands and the soft, pale skin of Draco’s neck. Draco batted his hand vaguely in Harry’s direction, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Harry noticed the slight curl of the blond’s lips and pushed another little kiss beneath Draco’s ear instead of pulling away. Draco gave up all pretence of resistance and heaved a happy sigh.

‘Oooh, I always wondered about that!’ Hermione exclaimed excitedly. Harry looked up and saw Alden making herself ready for a bit of a speech. Ah, Luc must have just asked about the origin of the name of the society.

 _‘That was my idea actually,’_ Alden said, sounding smug. _‘In Muggle culture the Bald Eagle symbolises great strength and power. It also happens to be the symbol for Muggle America. As American Muggle culture, as powerful a nation as it is, pretty much stands for all that the purebloods disdain about Muggle culture, it seemed like an appropriate choice’._

After that, each of the members revealed some of the Society’s activities. Alden talked about the pureblood wing in St Mungo’s for quite a bit, revealing that the treatment with Muggle drugs had been going on for several years now. Harper talked about their connections to the Daily Prophet and the Wizarding Wireless Network. Apparently Harper had a weekly column in both. Chubb spoke about their homeless shelters. As it turned out, the shelters were part of a network of organisations. Muggles and half bloods that were left homeless after the war got a safe place to stay, a warm bed and three decent meals a day. When a house originally belonging to a pureblood family became “available” (Chubb didn’t specify how these houses became available and neither Harry nor Luc had been prepared to ask) the homeless families would be allowed to move in.

Chubb also filled them in on the work experience programs for young wizards the Society had set up. Other than the fact that the service was aimed at Muggleborns and halfbloods exclusively, there didn’t seem to be a hidden agenda with that one. 

Walker briefly mentioned the courses in Muggle culture for purebloods they had attempted to organise. She quickly assured them that of course she had no intention of actually teaching the purebloods anything that would benefit them. The curriculum was made up of things like “how to figure out Muggle money” and some general information about Muggle tourist attractions and their significance like the Eiffel Tower and the Chinese Wall. 

It wasn’t until the very end of the meeting that they came to the really interesting part.

 _‘And how about the… more covert operations of the Society? Like what you did with the youngest Malfoy?’_ Luc asked.

Alden glared at Walker, who cleared her throat before answering: _‘That part of operations is handled by Joanna almost exclusively. It’s like a pet project if you will. She has a small troop of trustworthy men and woman that answer directly to her…’_

 _‘Mathilda,’_ Alden said warningly. _‘There’s no need to go into all of that surely?’_

She tried for a sweet smile, but the ice in her eyes never melted. 

_‘I believe there’s_ every _need,’_ Harry’s voice insisted haughtily. _‘You either want to use me as some sort of figurehead or include me in the actions somehow. As I’ve said  before, I’m not doing any of that until I know about_ all _your operations, not just the public ones’._

Walker nodded reassuringly at Alden and went on to say: _‘Quite right Harry. As I’ve said, the Bird of Prey division, that’s what we call this little group you see, is a highly skilled, extensively trained unit we’ve set up only recently. Malfoy junior was our first target. Another pureblood has been taken about two weeks ago and we currently have our eye on two more’._

Harry looked at Draco. His silver eyes had a haunted look about them. 

‘We’ll get to whomever it is in time,’ he whispered in the blond’s ear. ‘And we’ll make sure they won’t get a chance to capture anyone else’.

Draco nodded distractedly, his shoulders losing a bit of their tension. Hermione’s eyes were narrowed and still glued to the screen. They were almost at the end of the film now. Harry had just agreed to publicly endorse the Bald Eagle Society during a press conference to be held in a week and a half. 

They were saying their goodbyes when Hermione suddenly hissed: ‘Wait! I need you to rewind the film. Who knows how to do that?’

The men looked at each other helplessly.

‘Never mind!’ Hermione exclaimed huffily. ‘I’ll figure it out myself. Honestly, you men are useless!’

She picked up the phone, randomly pressed some buttons until she found the rewind one. She then had to do that three times more before she found what she called the “freeze frame” button. The image stilled and she made a little whooping sound as she scrambled up and pressed her nose very close to the Muggle television.

‘Aha!’ she crowed, pointing at the window frame that was just visible in the top left corner of the screen. ‘You see that owl? I _know_ that owl. It’s one of Minister Scrimgeour’s personal owls’.

‘How can you tell?’ Draco asked, looking puzzled. ‘It looks like a perfectly ordinary tawny owl to me’.

Hermione nodded.

‘It is,’ she said. ‘But I recognise her because of that little tick she has where she twitches her neck to the left a tiny bit in flight’.

Hermione rewound the film again and showed them.

‘See? And I saw her fly by at least two times while you were talking, but she didn’t come in’. 

Draco sucked in his breath.

‘It must have been trained to only deliver the massage while the recipient is alone,’ he said. ‘Father had an owl like that when I was young’. 

‘But who do you think the message was for?’ Harry wondered.

‘I’m pretty sure I know that one too’,  Hermione answered. ‘You see, I thought I recognised that Alden bint from somewhere. And now I remember. I’ve seen her at the Ministry a few times, once coming out of Scrimgeour’s office even!’

They were quiet for a moment, trying to grasp the implications of Alden being a regular visitor at the Ministry. Luc was the first to break the silence.

‘Well… It seems that perhaps your Minister might be guilty of more than just looking away and ignoring the obvious’.

‘It does…’ Hermione agreed. ‘The press conference you agreed to gives us a week and a half to get to the bottom of this and set everything up. We’d better get started’.


	24. Darkness and light

Harry sighed and threw himself on his back. He scrambled for his wand underneath the pillow, found it and cast a Tempus charm. Two thirty. Lovely. Two thirty and once again he was wide awake, with no signs that he’d be drifting off to sleep anytime soon.

Harry told himself sleep eluded him only because of the stressful day that lay behind him. Hermione had been urging them on tirelessly, trying to cram a full month of preparation into the one week they actually had. Only two days were left of that week now…

Today had been especially gruesome. Harry had been assigned to research duty, the most tedious and boring job of all. Of course that wasn’t the way Hermione saw it. But honestly, who wanted to read scrolls and scrolls of legal texts, describing anything from rules of the wizarding election process to ancestries of Wizengamot members? Harry groaned and reached up to massage his temples. He had a splitting headache from reading the names of each Wizengamot member, past and present, with a list of ancestors that want back five generations at least. Per wizard. 

And he didn’t even know what he was looking for. 

* * *

 

_‘Just check to see if something, a name perhaps, pops out at you,’ Hermione said in answer to his complaints._

_‘But you’ve read every word of this through at least twice already. You’ve told me that yourself!’ Harry  protested._

_‘Yes Harry, I’m well aware of that,’ Hermione answered, with the kind of patience you’d use with a petulant child. ‘But we must be absolutely sure, can’t afford not to be. That means my research will have to be double checked, triple checked even. Which is why Hale here will be joining you’._

_Harry looked to his right to share a conspiratorial look with Hale, only to see that the studious looking young man had already sharpened his quill and was busying himself with taking furious notes. Great._

* * *

Harry flipped on his stomach and used his pillow to muffle a frustrated growl. Yes, the hours and hours of uninterrupted reading, studying and compiling notes would have been enough to explain his insomnia. But he knew the real reason that kept him awake. Draco. He was missing Draco… 

Mrs Malfoy’s recovery had been slow. Draco was reluctant to leave her bedside, at night especially. Healer Kirke had examined her last night, and was cautiously optimistic. Mrs Malfoy seemed to be responding well to her treatment, her eyes becoming clearer and more alive every day. She was still very thin and much too pale, but Nurse Jenkins, aided by an overly eager Poppin, would soon remedy that. 

Mrs Malfoy hadn’t spoken yet, a fact Harry knew both Healer Kirke and Draco were worried about. But she seemed to be aware of what was going on around her even if she didn’t visibly respond to much of anything yet. Healer Kirke had told them that the next twenty four hours would be crucial in determining whether or not Mrs Malfoy would make a full recovery. So of course Draco insisted on staying by his Mother’s side for all of those twenty four hours. Harry didn’t begrudge them that. He didn’t. He just… missed Draco. Missed the sound of his breath as he lay asleep next to him. The sight of the soft blond hair splayed on the white pillowcase. Missed the slender body that curled into him while asleep, seeking warmth, seeking Harry… The sleepy “good morning” , whispered in a sweet but drowsy voice. Oh hell, he just missed the bloody git, that was all. He missed everything about him…

**xxx**

Harry’s eyes flew open and met nothing but darkness. Not the regular, usual darkness of night, but an unnatural inky black. He had no idea what time it was. At some point, he must have fallen asleep after all. He tried to remember what had awoken him, but his sleep befuddled brain wouldn’t cooperate.

‘Harry…’ 

Oh right. 

‘Draco? Are you alright? Why is it so dark in here?’

Harry fumbled around for a moment, trying to locate his wand.

‘Leave it,’ Draco breathed. He’d manoeuvred himself so close that Harry could both feel and hear the soft words, like a small gust of warm air on his cheek. 

Harry froze with indecision.

‘You did this?’ he asked uncertainly. ‘Why?’

Draco scooted even closer to him, making their noses and knees bump.

‘Because I needed to talk to you’,  he said simply.

Harry frowned. That didn’t make any sense to him. But if that was what Draco wanted…

‘Alright…’ Harry said hesitantly.

Draco slid a hand down Harry’s arm until he found his hand, clasped it and smiled. Or at least Harry thought he did, by the sound of Draco’s voice as he said: ‘I believe Mother will be alright’. 

‘Really?’ Harry said, his skin tingling in reaction to the pure joy in Draco’s voice.

He could feel Draco nod.

‘I think so, yes. She looked at me today, really looked at me… And then she spoke my name. It was so soft I could barely hear it, but I know what she said. And later, when I kissed her cheek, I think she even smiled a little,’ Draco gushed.

‘That’s wonderful Draco!’ Harry said warmly. He flung his arms around Draco and tugged him closer, pulling the blond head on his shoulder and entangling their legs. 

‘I can’t believe you saved her,’ Draco said in a tiny voice. ‘Thank you. Just… thank you’.

‘ _We_ saved her,’ Harry insisted. ‘It wasn’t just me, it was you, Hermione, Luc, all of us really’. 

Harry could feel the blond shaking his head, the movement of soft hair tickling his skin and nose.

‘No. I mean, yes, we all contributed to her rescue. But the truth is, she’s only safe because of you. _You’re_ the one who cared enough ,’ Draco insisted.

Harry wanted to protest, but stopped himself when he felt Draco shake his head again and place an urgent finger on Harry’s lips.

‘No,’ Draco whispered. ‘You have to hear me out. Just… let me say it, alright?’ 

Harry waited, then nodded cautiously, deciding it was best to remain quiet and let Draco have his say.

‘Harry…’

The name felt like a caress on Harry’s skin, making his skin break out in tiny goose bumps and a delicious shiver run down his spine. A moment later, Draco’s hand followed, stroking a lazy path up and down his spine, his hip, his thigh… Harry shivered and snuggled closer, letting his arm slip down to rest round Draco’s waist and pulled him tight.

‘Sometimes I still can’t believe we’re together like this. I never thought, never _dreamed_...’ Draco whispered. He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

‘I know I haven’t said it, but I do. Love you I mean,’ Draco said, his voice serious and urgent.

Harry held his breath. His heart thumped so loudly he had to strain his ears to hear whatever Draco would say next. 

‘So very much it scares me sometimes. Did you know…’

Draco hesitated, and when the next words came, they were spoken so softly that Harry could barely make them out.

‘I dreamed about getting rescued sometimes… While I was awake I wouldn’t even allow myself to fantasise about someone coming for me. Hoping… the hope would have killed me like nothing else could have. But sometimes, in my dreams, someone came and whisked me away from it all. A faceless, nameless someone most of the time. And then at other times… the man did have a face. Your face…’

Draco seemed to shrink into himself. 

‘What? Me??’ Harry couldn’t stop himself from blurting out.

‘Shut up. This is embarrassing,’ Draco grumbled, punching Harry and shuffling back from him somewhat.

Harry quickly pulled him back. Draco relented easily, snuggling deeper in Harry’s embrace. They lay there quietly for a while. It felt strange, Harry thought, to be in this silent darkness, holding Draco. Not in a bad way though. It felt… like their own little corner of the world, secluded from everyone and everything. Private. Calm. Safe.

Then Draco started speaking again. 

‘That last night, they beat me so viciously and so relentlessly that I must have passed out for hours after. One minute I was making myself as small as possible, trying not to cry, not to scream, not to _howl_ with the pain. Trying not to provoke them, not to anger them, but not willing to let them see me break down either.  And then the next thing I knew, I was woken up to the sight of you…’ 

Draco pressed a kiss against Harry’s shoulder before continuing: ‘ I couldn’t believe it. Didn’t know what to think. Were you going to help me? Curse me? Kill me? I didn’t know what scared me most… The shock numbed the pain for only a moment. And then it hit me, _hard_... So much pain… I don’t know what they did to me that last time. I think it may have been a blessing that I can’t actually remember… But you took care of me. In my heart I knew  you would, but I was afraid to let myself believe it’

Draco shivered and seemed to shrink further  in Harry’s embrace. Harry pressed soft little kisses on every part of Draco he could reach, urging him silently to talk on.

Draco cleared his throat, shifting a bit as if he was suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable.

‘So anyway, I may or may not have had a crush on you when we were at Hogwarts together. I’d prefer not to comment on that,’ Draco said in what Harry was sure was meant to be a cool and aloof sort of tone. Harry could feel the blond’s cheek heat up against his chest though, and had to bite his lip not to start grinning like an idiot.

‘What I feel for you now though… I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before, Harry. I am. I wanted to, I promise you… Because I _do_ love you. You’ve become so very important to me… I don’t know what I’d do if anything were to happen to you. The thought of losing you… The idea that you may one day walk away from me? Now that I have you? I couldn’t bear it Harry. I just couldn’t. I can’t…’

Harry could hear the dry sob in Draco’s voice and decided that that was it, enough now. He needed to _see_ Draco, really see him. He quickly grabbed his wand.

‘Lumos’.

Draco startled. He tried to hide his face against Harry’s chest, but Harry wouldn’t have it.

‘No,’ Harry said softly. ‘I need to look at you. And I need you to look at me. Please?’

He cupped Draco’s chin with his hand and lifted it gently, but  Draco held his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Harry bent down and pressed a velvety kiss on both eyelids, brushing a thumb over the blond eyelashes. The eyelids fluttered open and Harry gasped his breath. He’d never seen Draco look this… vulnerable before. So open. So beautiful… _So mine_ , he thought.

‘Draco Malfoy… The truth is, I don’t think I ever had a crush on you when we were teenagers,’ Harry said, ignoring Draco’s cringe.  ‘I thought you were a stuck up, arrogant pointy git. What can I say? I must have been blind, that’s all I can think of. But now… My beautiful, brave, stubborn Draco… You’re everything to me. And I love you in a way that I hadn’t thought possible. In a way that is all consuming, completely exhilarating and also pretty scary sometimes’.

Harry laughed, his heart and head filled with joy. He watched the emotions flicker over Draco’s face unchecked and drank them in. There was honesty, fear, hope, love…

‘You made me so happy just now Draco. You have no idea…’

Draco suddenly reached out for him and yanked their heads together. Harry could taste the metallic tang of blood while they kissed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when there was this ferocious kiss to be enjoyed. 

The muted light of Harry’s wand shone softly, engulfing them in its subtle radiance. Harry broke away from the kiss to drink in the beautiful sight. Draco’s skin shimmered, seeming to beg for Harry’s touch, his lips, his tongue… He was lying on his back, hair tussled, legs slightly parted to reveal his straining cock. Harry groaned and kissed his way down from the curve of Draco’s shoulder, down his toned chest and abdomen, until he was lying between Draco’s legs. He didn’t give the blond a chance to breathe, instead bending down and taking his cock deep in his mouth in one swift movement.

Draco whined, arched his back and tangled nimble, slender fingers in Harry’s hair. Harry moaned at the sensation, the sound making tiny shivers travel up and down Draco’s spine. 

‘Harry…’

Merlin, he loved the way Draco said his name. Harry moved his head up and down, taking Draco in deep, sucking, and then letting him slide almost entirely out of his mouth before moving back down again. 

Draco thrashed and whimpered beautifully. Harry chuckled wickedly as he watched the blond come undone. He twirled his tongue, licking the base with broad swipes, swooped down again and tried to swallow around the head. Draco bucked his hips, but Harry had a tight grip on them and held him down firmly. When Draco tried to thrust into his mouth again, Harry released him and leaned back. He hesitated for only a second before he flipped Draco over so he was lying face down on the bed.  

‘What…’ Draco mumbled, his voice startled.

And then Harry put his tongue to good use again. He pulled back Draco’s now throbbing cock and licked a stripe from the tip to the base. He followed the trail with his tongue, flicking, lapping at the sensitive skin of Draco’s balls, then further up until he started lazily circling the blond’s hole. 

‘Oh… God Harry, yes… Please, please… yes, like that… ah… ung,  mmm, yes…’ 

Encouraged by Draco’s mindless ramblings, Harry darted his tongue and started thrusting in and out in quick movements. The more Draco whimpered and thrashed underneath him, the more insistent his movements became. After a sound that was almost like a mewl, Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. He sat up and demanded softly: ‘Turn around’.

His heart almost beat out of his chest as he waited. Was Draco going to do as he asked? And was he going to let Harry…

It seemed like a lifetime before Draco finally turned himself on his back and looked up at Harry with defiant grey eyes. 

‘What?’ Draco asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Harry laughed breathlessly and threw himself on top of the blond. Draco opened his mouth, no doubt to complain, but Harry didn’t give him the chance. He covered Draco’s mouth with his own and started a furious dance with Draco’s tongue. His hands meanwhile, roved all over Draco’s body, revelling in the silkiness of the pale skin. He traced a hand over all the dips and curves of Draco’s body, following the ribs with a finger, smoothing over the rounding of his arse, skating over nipples, brushing over pale blond hair…

Merlin he had missed that, missed _him_ … He just wanted to touch Draco, feel him, embrace him, make love to him, _love_ him… The taste of his mouth was just not enough for Harry any more. He broke away from the kiss and started using hands, teeth, lips and tongue to explore every inch of the beautiful body beneath him.

 _More_ , Harry thought, as he tasted earlobes, jawbone, the soft skin at the bottom of Draco’s neck… _More_ , he thought as he swept hands over chest, back, arse, cock… Without another thought, he conjured the jar of oil from the bed stand and opened the lid. He waited. Waited for Draco to look at him.

Bright, silver eyes fluttered open and fixed on brilliant green ones. Harry dipped three fingers in the jar and covered his own cock with the pleasantly citrusy smelling oil. Draco’s eyes followed his every movement, followed the languid strokes until Harry dipped his fingers into the oil again. 

Draco looked at him with hypnotising intensity. When Harry reached out his slicked hand and brushed it up Draco’s inner thighs, the blond spread his legs further without a word. Harry bit his lip harshly not to verbally ask for the consent the gesture had already given him. He’d been perfectly happy to let Draco fuck him, in no rush to change their roles. But tonight it seemed completely natural, not thought about, just… right.

Draco exhaled with a whoosh as Harry breached him first with one finger, than with two. He moved the fingers in and out gently, scissoring, twisting and then curving up to find that…

‘Sweet Merlin yes!’ Draco cried out, bucking his hips helplessly.

Harry smiled and bent down for a kiss. Draco reciprocated eagerly, curling an arm around Harry’s neck to pull him further down. He broke his mouth free and kissed a trail to Harry’s left ear. He licked the scalp teasingly, making Harry shiver. 

‘Now. I want you to do it _right now_ ,’ Draco panted in his ear.

Harry moaned helplessly and sat up between the blond’s spread legs. He took hold of Draco’s legs, just above the knees, and lifted them. He grabbed a pillow and Draco obligingly lifted his arse so Harry could prop it up underneath him.

He couldn’t wait a second longer. Harry tried to go slow, went as slow as he could as he entered Draco for the first time. Draco grimaced.

‘Sorry… I’m sorry…’ Harry mumbled mindlessly.

‘s ok…’ Draco grunted.

Harry looked at him worriedly, relieved as he saw Draco’s features smooth out and relax. Relieved because he didn’t want to hurt Draco and because he just _couldn’t stop_! The feeling… Oh Merlin, so hot, so tight, so… No words…. He just had to…

Move. Harry thrust into the wonderful heat, over and over again. Draco threw his head back and cried out Harry’s name as he managed to hit Draco’s prostrate with every other thrust. His arms were flung over his head, his head trashing from side to side.

Harry knew he wouldn’t last long. The feeling was too good, too hot, too… intense to endure for much longer. He used his hands to push Draco closer to the edge, tweaking his nipples, squeezing his arse, tugging his balls… He located the little jar of oil, dipped his fingers in it once more and slicked Draco’s heated cock with it. It was throbbing almost an angry red, assuring Harry that Draco wouldn’t last much longer himself.

Just a couple of strokes and Draco came, arching his back almost off the bed. Shudders rocked his frame and he clenched down almost painfully around Harry. Harry moaned, feeling like his climax was being ripped from his body, spilling himself helplessly in the still trembling body beneath him. 

Harry felt dazed. His heart was still racing, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe… He couldn’t move. Literally couldn’t move… He knew he must be almost smothering Draco, but the blond didn’t complain. Instead, he wrapped both arms and legs around Harry, not allowing Harry to pull away even if he’d wanted to. 

_The world may be on fire_ , Harry thought, stroking a tender hand over Draco’s tussled locks, _but this, right here, right now… This is perfect._


	25. An audience with Mrs Malfoy

'Mistress Malfoy is being requesting your attendance at the Master Suite presently'.

Harassed, Harry looked away from the flickering screen in front of him to stare at the solemn House Elf.

'Excuse me?' he muttered distractedly.

The House Elf sighed heavily.

'Krinkey is being saying that Mister Harry Potter is to be going to Mistress Malfoy. Now. She is being waiting for Mister Harry Potter at the Master Suite,' Krinkey repeated.

Harry looked back at the screen doubtfully. He'd been working with Luc and Hermione on the final editing of the footage they were going to use for the press conference tomorrow. Now didn't seem like a very convenient time to stop. Ron would be bringing Hugo and Rose over for dinner in two hours and they needed to be ready before then.

On the other hand, Harry thought it was a very positive sign that Mrs Malfoy was asking for him in the first place. Harry hadn't been in to see her since she was fully conscious. She still hadn't completely recovered and Healer Kirke had told them that it would be best if she was confronted with things and people familiar to her only for now. That meant Draco and the House Elves mainly and Harry had been happy to stay away. He wasn't sure how aware Mrs Malfoy was at the moment and didn't know what Draco might have told her.

'It's alright Harry,' Hermione said, putting the film on pause. 'We're almost finished anyway. Only that last bit from Dean to go now and we'll watch the whole thing after dinner, yes?'

Harry nodded distractedly and quickly made his way up the main stairs. He might as well get this over with. Harry sped up and soon found himself in front of the massive oak doors that lead to the Master Suite. He'd barely lifted his hand to knock on the doors before he heard the commanding female voice coming through the thick wood.

'Please enter Mister Potter'.

Harry swallowed, feeling ridiculously nervous. Telling himself not to be silly, he pushed the heavy doors open and entered the suite.

'Good afternoon Mrs Malfoy,' he started awkwardly. 'I hope you are feeling well today?'

He gave her a what he hoped was a polite smile and walked further into the room.

'I am Mr Potter, thank you,' Mrs Malfoy answered. She looked almost regal, sitting in a velvet armchair that looked more like a throne than anything else. Her long blond hair, though still streaked with grey, looked healthier somehow. She wore deep blue robes that seemed to flow around her in still waves. 'Please sit down,' she continued, indicating the chair on her left side with a tiny nod.

Harry quickly glanced at Draco before sitting down. He was sitting in another one of those throne-like chairs and looked absolutely stunning in his Muggle clothing. He wore black trousers and a simple but elegant grey shirt. Harry suddenly felt very much underdressed in his own Muggle jeans and white shirt. Draco looked amused. _Bastard_ , Harry thought. He looked down at his feet uncertainly.

'You wanted to see me?' Harry asked, finally finding the courage to look up.

Mrs Malfoy looked at him with a tiny smile that Harry didn't quite understand. It made him feel distinctly uncomfortable and he couldn't help shifting a little in his seat.

'I did,' Mrs Malfoy acknowledged. 'I wanted to thank the man that brought me back. I… I was lost for a long time Mr Potter. I was shocked to hear how much time had gone by since they first took me to that place. Thank you for taking me away from that'.

Mrs Malfoy looked at him with such serious and earnest eyes that it made Harry squirm with embarrassment.

'I only wished we could have got you out sooner,' Harry mumbled.

Mrs Malfoy shook her head decisively.

'None of that now Harry. Pardon me, may I call you Harry? It seems a little odd to be so formal with one another after all Draco's told me about you,' Mrs Malfoy said.

Harry gulped, eyes darting back and forth between Draco and his Mother. What had Draco told her? More importantly, _how much_ had he told her?

'She means about rescuing her. And me,' Draco explained with a smirk.

Harry blushed furiously.

'Oh. Right. Erm… You're welcome Mrs Malfoy,' Harry managed. For a moment he was confused at the expectant look in her eyes. Then he remembered. 'Yes. Yes of course you can call me Harry. I'd like that'.

Mrs Malfoy smiled. Her whole face lit up with that smile, making it easy to see what a beautiful woman she'd been before the ordeal of two wars and her stay at both Azkaban and St Mungo's had aged her prematurely.

'Excellent,' she said. 'And you must call me Narcissa of course'.

Harry smiled back tentatively.

'Alright… Narcissa,' he tried. It sounded a bit odd, but Harry liked it anyway.

'Good. Now Harry, why don't you tell me all about what's been going on between you and my son?' Narcissa asked sweetly.

'What? But… I…,' Draco spluttered.

'Come come now Draco dearest. I may have been out of it for several months, but I'm not blind,' she chastised him mildly.

* * *

 

'Well that wasn't as painful as I thought it was going to be,' Harry said lightly while closing the door of Narcissa's rooms behind him.

Draco snorted.

'Not for you maybe. Can't say I enjoyed talking about my love life with my _mother_ of all people'.

Harry snickered, his snicker turning into a full blown laugh at Draco's scowl.

'Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. At least she seemed to like the idea of us being together,' Harry teased.

'Like is a bit of an understatement, wouldn't you say?' Draco answered sardonically. 'She practically offered my hand in marriage and I could tell she was mentally tallying up the remaining Malfoy heirlooms to put together some kind of dowry'.

'You are joking, aren't you?' Harry asked, horrified.

'Of course I am you idiot!' Draco exclaimed, giving Harry a playful shove.

'Oi! I am _not_ an idiot!' Harry gave back.

'Oh , I beg to differ', Draco said looking smug. He ran a hand down Harry's arm and took Harry's hand in his.

'Oh? And why is that?' Harry asked, slightly breathless.

Draco leaned in dangerously close, stopping barely an inch short of Harry's lips. Harry held his breath and felt his heart rate speed up.

'Because Harry,' Draco whispered in a tone that Harry could only describe as seductive as hell, 'you are much too gullible for your own good'.

Harry had no time to protest before being pulled into a dark room and shoved up hard against the closing door.

'Ah,' he conceded. 'Fair point'.

'Isn't it?' Draco agreed.

Harry would have agreed if he wasn't a little busy being kissed senseless. Draco was all warmth and groping hands, reducing Harry to incoherent sounds within seconds. He gave as good as he got though, burying one hand in silky blond locks and snaking the other around Draco's waist. Harry chased Draco's tongue around his mouth and pulled him close.

Harry whined as Draco pulled their lips apart, but sighed happily as Draco's lips started to trace a path down Harry's neck to his collarbone.

'Mmmm… So good…' Harry muttered. 'What's with you and the dark though? And where are we anyway?'

Draco shrugged, lifting his lips from their delicious path long enough to say: 'It's one of the guest bathrooms . You can turn on the light if you want'.

Harry reached out an arm fumbling for the switch, found it an turned on the light. Blinking against the sudden brightness, Harry said: 'I want'.

He kept his eyes locked with Draco's, letting the words double intent sink in. Draco's eyes widened slightly before turning into liquid silver heat. Suddenly their lips locked again and Draco was almost shoving his tongue into Harry's mouth. Harry was having trouble breathing, but he couldn't make himself care.

Harry let his hands slip down Draco's sides to grab his hips firmly. Harry was unable to stifle a wanton groan as he pushed his hips into Draco's and found an answering erection pressed snugly against his own. Draco's breath caught and he pulled his mouth free to gulp in some much needed oxygen. Harry smirked, overwhelming Draco by pulling the blond's Muggle shirt over his head with one quick movement. He stepped back from the door and whirled them around so now Draco had his back pressed against the wall, right next to the door. Draco laughed breathlessly and took his revenge by returning the favour, throwing Harry's shirt after his own. Draco pressed their now naked chests together, making Harry heave a blissful little sigh.

That sigh turned into a needy moan as Draco started rutting up against him. Harry made a feeble attempt at loosening his belt and jeans, but gave up quickly in favour of shamelessly rutting back and looking, _looking_ at Draco.

Draco looked completely debauched, hair dishevelled, cheeks flushed and eyes full of molten heat. _So beautiful_ , Harry thought. He pressed his lips against the base of Draco's neck and inhaled the unique scent of Draco's skin. _And mine_.

Harry's lips curled into a smile against the soft skin for a moment before he was forced to throw his head back and pant heavily at the relentless rutting.

'Draco…' he whined, as he felt his climax build up with unstoppable speed.

'Yes…' Draco breathed, as if in reply.

'Bloody fucking hell!'

Harry ripped himself away from Draco and stared at the unwelcome guest that had just blundered into the bathroom.

'Weasley, what the fuck are you doing in here? Can't you tell we're kind of in the middle of something?' Draco snarled.

'Yeah sorry… I'm just gonna… Erm… I'll just go shall I?' Ron babbled inanely. His ears were so pink the clashed painfully with the red hair.

Harry couldn't speak. He just couldn't. It was one thing knowing all his friends had figured out what was going on between himself and Draco. All his friends _and Draco's Mother_ , Harry reminded himself. It was quite another to have them actually catch them in the act so to speak.

Harry swallowed and kept staring at the door that Ron had long since closed behind him.

'Are you alright?' Draco asked.

He was clearly trying to look concerned, but the corner of his mouth was twitching suspiciously Harry noticed.

'What? Yeah. I suppose so. I guess it's not the end of the world, is it. Well at least it'll save me the trouble of having to tell him…' Harry mumbled.

'I thought all of them knew?' Draco asked, looking puzzled.

Harry sighed.

All except Ron I think. He's a bit dense when it comes to things like that. It took Hermione years to finally make him see how much he fancied her,' Harry explained absently. 'So,' he said, looking at the door again, 'you didn't lock the door then'.

'Not so much,' Draco admitted, his shoulders heaving with suppressed laughter.

'Oh shut up!' Harry huffed, storming out of the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. The sound of Draco's laughter followed him all the way down the stairs. When Harry thought back to Ron's flabbergasted face, he couldn't help but chuckle himself.


	26. Exposure

'Welcome. Thank you all for coming. There are so many of you, it is truly overwhelming… My name is Gabriel Harper and I'll be speaking on behalf of the board members of The Bald Eagle Society today'.

Harry looked around nervously from his hiding spot behind the stage. _So many people_ , he marvelled. _But that's good_ , he reminded himself. They wanted as many people here as possible after all, lots of friends, a large number of reporters, and of course _all_ the current members of the Bald Eagle Society. Or at least all the ones in key places, the ones that _knew_ what the Society was all about.

Harry spotted many of the members in the audience, all only recognisable by the tiny emblem of the stylized eagle pinned to their clothing. He'd expected Walker to make the speech, but he should have known it would be Harper instead. He was the one that dealt with the public side of things after all. Walker liked to lead from behind the scenes, perhaps hoping to escape any suspicion and consequent prosecution. _No change_ , Harry thought with vehemence, searching for and finding her face in the sea of people.

She was easy to spot, her and Chubb. Both were sitting in the plush seats of the V.I.P. section right in front of the stage. So not _that_ much in the background. Good.

'She's in one of the Wizengamot boxes. You know, the ones Hermione suggested so that the esteemed members of the Wizengamot could come to the press conference without having to associate with the little people'.

Harry turned to see Luc slipping in through the side curtains.

'What are you talking about?' he asked his friend.

'The Alden woman. I didn't see her in the crowd, nor with her friends from the board. I just wanted to make sure she was here, so I went out exploring,' Luc explained.

Harry smiled at his friend, feeling somewhat relieved.

'Good. I didn't spot her either. I guess she's trying to keep a low profile. Not so smart though if she's planning on keeping her connections to the Minister of Magic a secret,' he said.

'Not really, no,' Luc agreed with a wicked smirk. 'Don't worry, I'll keep my eye on her today'.

'… and that's why we'd like you all to welcome our soon to be newest and most illustrious member, Mister Harry Potter!'

'Oh Merlin, that'll be my cue,' Harry groaned, wiping his sweaty palms on his tailored black Muggle trousers before stepping out on the stage with a fake, confident smile firmly in place.

'Bon chance mon ami!' Luc called after him.

'Mister Potter, we are delighted to welcome you into our little circle,' Harper announced, shaking Harry's hand with enthusiasm.

'Yes… well…'

Harry cleared his throat and activated the Sonorus charm. This was the part he was least looking forward to. He absolutely hated public speaking of any kind. Again he was grateful for Luc's miracle potion, that at least helped him to stifle his nerves somewhat and hopefully not sound like a complete idiot.

'Right,' he tried again. 'Thank you all for coming on this important day'.

Harry winced slightly at the sheer loudness of his voice. Before continuing, he swept his eyes over the crowd one more time, letting his eyes rest on several people he recognised. There was Hermione, conveniently near the stage for later, with Ron beside her. He looked at Walker and Chubb again only briefly, as if assuring himself that they were still there. He tried to spot Alden, but the Wizengamot boxes had a privacy ward on them that was impenetrable to the naked eye. _Never mind_ , he thought vehemently, _I know you're there…_ He saw several Weasleys, Ginny, George, Arthur, Molly… He recognised some of the members and employees of the Bald Eagle Society, mostly from the tapes he'd been reviewing over the last 48 hours. He saw several witches and wizards that must be members of the press, judging by their notepads and quills or cameras at the ready. And… yes, there was Skeeter as well. Of course she'd managed to get herself into prime position. Harry smiled wryly. It was sort of a relief to see that not _everything_ had changed after all.

He took a deep breath and continued his speech.

'As Mr Harper has just told you, we're here today to establish my involvement with the Bald Eagle Society. But before I go further into that, I would like you all to know a little bit more about what the Bald Eagle Society and its members stand for, their views and the programs they're involved in. George, if you will?' Harry finished, turning in George Weasley's direction.

George gave him a thumbs up and with one wand movement made several large screens appear as if from nowhere. A few people gasped in shock or admiration and Harry quickly glanced back and forth between Harper, Chubb and Walker. They looked a bit puzzled, but not really all that worried. _Not yet_ , Harry thought.

The appearance of the screens had caused a ripple of sound to wash through the crowd, people wondering aloud what this was about and where the screens were coming from. Since they were Muggle screens, a lot of wizards had never seen anything like it. The ones that had, were busy explaining to the ones that hadn't. But when the screens flickered to life and sound erupted from the massive speakers at the front, a hush descended on the crowd.

The first scene was one of the outside of the homeless shelter founded by the Bald Eagle Society. They had decided against a voice over, letting the images speak for themselves. The only comments were the large white letters that proclaimed the name and credentials of every single Bald Eagle Society member and employee that was featured.

It started innocently enough, with footage of grateful homeless witches and wizards, thanking the caretakers for the provided food, hot drinks and warm beds. But then the images became more grainy, like they'd been shot from a large distance. The sound was clear as a bell though as the witch to the left of screen, bold white letters proclaiming her to be Abbey Harris, junior member, spoke:

'I'm ever so sorry Sir. But you see, the poor Muggleborns just don't feel safe in an environment where there are also purebloods'.

She was speaking to a dignified looking wizard of about fifty years old. His robes were of good quality, but worn almost through, clumsily patched up in some places. The man made an effort to look calm, but Harry recognised the quiet desperation in the dark and intelligent eyes.

'I see,' the man said with what looked like an enormous effort. 'And where do you suggest my wife and I go?'

Harris smiled blandly and answered: 'I fear I cannot help you with that. I have however always been told that pureblood families take care of their own. I'm sure you'll manage. Purebloods always survive, now don't they…'

The scene was cut just after Harris all but shoved the poor man back onto the streets. Harry looked back at Walker. Oh yes… She knew she was in trouble now… Her own vanity in claiming her seat in the V.I.P. section stopped her from making a discreet escape. Besides, if she or any of the other key members tried, they were ready for them. Harry's eyes searched and found Neville, Dean, Parkinson, Zabini, the Phillpots, the Baddocks, the Shaws and many more of their allies. All with their wands at the ready, only waiting for one of the Society members to make a move. So far, none of them had. Too stunned, Harry suspected. _Wait and see what else we got_ , he thought viciously, turning back to the screen.

The scene it was showing now was a mixture of an interview with Nurse Jenkins and footage obviously shot in the pureblood wing of St Mungo's.

'It broke my heart to see what they did to those poor patients,' she said with a sad voice, her usual stern expression softened into one of regret. 'I didn't know what to do. I talked to my supervisors, of course I did, but they said I wasn't a Healer or a Mediwitch and I should just do as I was told. I thought about leaving my job, but then what would have happened to my patients?'

The screens were showing some more of the residents of the pureblood wing. Harry winced, remembering that Draco's Mother was one of them not so long ago. That proud, witty woman, staring into nothingness, isolated, unloved, uncared for… _Not any more_ , Harry swore to himself. _Whatever happens after today, we'll put a stop to this. To_ all _of this. I'll make sure of that…_

'So what exactly did they _do_ to all these poor wizards and witches?' came Rita Skeeter's voice from somewhere behind the camera. It had been Hermione's idea to include Skeeter in this little project. _Clever Hermione._

Nurse Jenkins explained all about the Muggle drugs, the disregard for both the maximum daily doses and the required diet. Harry could hear the indignant comments and sharp intake of breath from those wizards and witches in the audience that had Muggle relatives. More and more people were throwing hostile glances in the direction of anyone wearing the Bald Eagle Society emblem.

At one point, Walker and Chubb actually tried to stand up to make a run for it, no doubt thinking everyone would be too distracted by the footage shown on the screens to see them leaving. No such luck. Wands were drawn within a fraction of a second and both Walker and Chubb seemed to be frozen to their seats. Harry smiled his thanks to both Zabini and Parkinson. He knew they had used a special kind of stunner that Charlie Weasley had taught them. Charlie had developed it himself and it was strong enough to stun a full-grown dragon. Not even a Shield Charm would be able to save them from that one.

'Now I do apologise in advance, because these images might be quite upsetting for some of you. However, we, the Bald Eagle Society, feel that it is imperative that you know the truth'.

Harry looked back to the screen to see a blond witch (Miss Owen, teacher, the bold letters said) speaking to a group of intimidated looking students of about 10 years old. Some of them wore robes, others Muggle clothing.

'You'll all be going to Hogwarts next year and we want you to be prepared,' the witch continued with a grave face.

She nodded to a sour looking wizard to her right. The man muttered a charm and a scene was projected in front of the children. It was like one of those crappy Muggle tv shows, that use re-enactments to tell a story. Harry had cringed at the bad acting the first time he saw it. He cringed even more as he saw how manipulative the footage was. One scene after another of purebloods behaving badly, Muggle baiting, casting unforgivables…

Hermione had been seething with rage when they had watched it yesterday.

'I would have loved to have some sort of schooling on the wizarding world before going to Hogwarts. But this? This is just indoctrination and quite frankly scaring the hell out of those children!' Hermione had ranted.

None of them had argued with her. And now, Harry saw shocked faces all around him. The scenes that were shown were full of fake blood and anguished screams. The children in the classroom looked slightly green and some of them started to cry softly.

'That's my Jeremy!' a dark haired wizard in row eight called out.

There were many cries of outrage, of confusion, but they were quickly hushed as no one wanted to miss the rest of the film. It was like watching a bad accident, Harry supposed. No matter how horrible it gets, you just can't make yourself look away.

There was more, much much more… There were images from a work experience program that was more like a selection process than anything else. Men and women were drilled with questions, mostly about Muggle and pureblood beliefs of course, and then sorted into groups. It wasn't hard to deduce which answers would make you end up in the groups doing the more menial, sometimes downright disgusting, jobs with little to no prospect.

Cameras were going off every second and quills were scribbling furiously. Harry could feel the mood of the crowd swing from shocked and incredulous to full blown anger. That had Harry worried. The last thing they needed, was for the crowd to turn into some sort of lynch mob. That would make them no better than the Bald Eagle Society.

At the very end of the film came Harry's interview with Walker, Chubb, Harper and Alden. All their names were proclaimed clearly in the by now familiar white bold letters. Harry didn't need to look at them to know. He had been there after all. Some of those words had been haunting him for days now. Harry braced himself as he heard the very last words from the film die out. They were Walker's words about Draco.

'And what about the son? House arrest? Seriously? Lock the spoilt little prince in his castle with all of his pretty things? Oh yes, they took his obedient little house elves away, severe punishment I am sure. The prat might need to make his own breakfast for a change. The horror!'

The last image was a photo of Draco as he had been right after the war. Harry hadn't seen it before and it made his heart ache to see his beautiful, strong Draco look so very pale, so hopeless and so alone.

Harry could sense it. The exact moment the crowd would come out of their collective stupor and start an uproar. He didn't need to look to his left. He knew Draco would be there, because his sense of timing, as everything else about him, was impeccable.

The rustle of an invisibility cloak being pulled off and then a massive gasp, seeming to come from every mouth in the audience as they saw Draco appear. Harry still doesn't look at him. His eyes were glued to Walker now, wanting, _needing_ , to see her reaction.

There wasn't much to see. She was still Stunned after all and sitting several feet away. But Harry saw it anyway. The shock, the hurt, the betrayal… Her eyes flashed those feelings back to him and he smiled with victorious satisfaction. Only then did he look back at the man he loved. The man that woman tried to take away from Harry before he'd even found him.

'My name is Draco Malfoy. I am still alive, despite the best efforts of the people that call themselves the Bald Eagle Society,' Draco started.

He wore elegant black robes and looked every inch the pureblood. Harry glowed with pride, just being able to stand next to him.

'I know you remember my family name,' Draco continued. 'We made a lot of mistakes during the war. Father paid for them with his life. Mother paid for his mistakes and hers, first in Azkaban and then in that so-called pureblood wing of St Mungo's'.

Draco swallowed. Harry knew how difficult this was for him. The Malfoys, like most pureblood families, were essentially private people. It was hard for Draco to tell his story to such a large audience. But Hermione had assured them that that very need to keep their suffering private, was probably what had made it possible for The Bald Eagle Society's more clandestine operations to go undetected and unchallenged for so long. Harry suspected she was right. Draco must have felt the same, or he would never have agreed to expose himself like this.

Draco told his story in neat, almost clean words. Somehow, that made the impact that much greater. The crowd stayed quiet, hungrily absorbing every word.

'The biggest mistake they made was handing me over to Harry Potter. I will never understand how they could think that someone so kind, so warm, so compassionate, could ever agree with what they did. What they stand for. Harry knows, as I do, that this is not about the purity of one's blood. Voldemort was wrong. I knew that then and I know it now. But the Bald Eagle Society is wrong as well. Yes, Voldemort and his Death Eaters have caused so much harm to both the wizarding and the Muggle world. But so has The Bald Eagle Society,' Draco finished.

He stepped back a bit, positioning himself next to Harry while Hermione took over the stage. Harry grabbed hold of Draco's hand and squeezed tightly.

'You were wonderful,' he whispered.

'I always am,' came Draco's dry reply. But Harry felt the soft squeeze in response to his and smiled.

'You've seen today what the Bald Eagle Society is capable of. You've seen their _real_ goals, instead of the ones they proclaim out loud,' Hermione said in a clear, powerful voice.

'This has been going on under all our noses. The Bald Eagle Society has been allowed an almost unlimited freedom. How has this happened? As most of you know, I am a Muggle born witch. According to The Bald Eagle Society, I should renounce all purebloods and welcome their punishment. I do not. What I see, is a powerful dark wizard, calling himself The Dark Lord, being allowed to grow more powerful still, because of the fear and indecision of our own Ministry. And now, when another evil force has stood up, they look away once again. Still afraid. Still indecisive'.

She turned her face toward the cameras to make her final statement loud and clear.

'I call upon the Minister to take responsibility. I call upon the esteemed members of the Wizengamot to investigate the Bald Eagle Society and its activities fully. And I call upon all of you present here today, to open your eyes, _right now_. No more deception. No more acting out of fear or revenge. Find out the truth. We have given you as much as we can. The rest is up to you _. All_ of you'.

Tumultuous applause broke out as soon as she finished. Harry saw several Aurors move toward members of the Bald Eagle Society and take them in. Kingsley Shacklebolt, head Auror now, moved in to arrest both Walker and Chubb. Harper was already being hauled off by a curly haired Auror Harry didn't recognise.

'That was some speech Granger. Hermione. Yes, I can see you as our next Minister of Magic. It'll be good to finally have someone sensible in that position, instead of just some puppet of the Wizengamot,' Draco said, shaking Hermione's hand.

Hermione flushed and smiled a little pleased smile.

'Thanks Draco,' she said.

She looked around the crowded field with a concerned look.

'Do you think they have everything under control?' she asked them.

Harry nodded.

'Yes,' he said. 'Don't worry. Ron warned the rest of the Aurors in advance, so they were ready to take charge. You know Shacklebolt has been sceptical about the Bald Eagle Society from the beginning. Ron said it didn't take much to convince him. And you know the Aurors will listen to Kingsley before anyone else, and that includes the Minister'.

Hermione nodded distractedly.

'Where is Ron anyway?' she asked, sweeping her eyes over the crowd.

'Over there,' Draco said, indicating the left Wizengamot box with a nod. 'He's taking Alden in'.

'Good,' Harry said. 'Well, I think that means our work here is done for today. Come on. Let's go home'.


	27. Epilogue

There was no need for the use of actual words. The delicate arch of an eyebrow and the trace of a smirk on his lips was all Draco Malfoy needed. _I told you so_ , they spoke both loud and clear.

And so he had, Harry silently acknowledged. Not that the smug bastard needed the confirmation of course. Which was why Harry had no intention of giving him any.

Instead, he looked back across the fields and admired the view. It was a late summer day in early September and the vineyard looked magnificent in the soft, golden light of sunset. The air was still warm, heat radiating from the sun baked soil. It would have made for a beautiful, peaceful sight if not for the whirlwind of harvesting activities going on all around them.

'You is not be doing this right! You needs to be listening to Kreacher!'

Harry hid a smile as he watched Kreacher bully an army of Malfoy house elves around the fields. The little elf was practically shining with glee and had taken to his new task like a pig to mud. The Malfoy elves were making quick work of the picking of the bunches of grapes, piling them up high on the carts waiting at the end of each row.

Yes, Draco had been right. It had been a brilliant idea to bring the Malfoy elves along to France for the harvesting. Harry had been worried that Kreacher might feel threatened, he'd been the only elf on the vineyard's grounds for years now after all. But instead, Kreacher had welcomed the Malfoy elves with open arms, ready to order them around within minutes of their arrival.

Harry and Draco had come back to France for the harvesting season a little over a week ago. They'd stayed in England all through the summer, making good on their promise to aid Hermione in any way they could. They had attended meetings, made speeches and given interviews. Draco had been questioned several times about his run ins with the Bald Eagle Society, patiently telling the story over and over again. They'd celebrated smaller and bigger victories, like the day Scrimgeour was escorted out of his office by a small army of determined looking Aurors or when the pureblood wing of St Mungo's was closed permanently.

'We've never had as easy a harvest as this one,' Luc mumbled from behind Harry.

Harry turned around to smile at his friend. Luc had gone back to France to help Stéphane with the running of the vineyard back in early August and Harry had missed seeing him daily.

'Hey Luc. Yes I know. Don't tell Draco though,' Harry warned.

'I don't think there's any need to tell him,' Luc said drily as he watched the trademark Malfoy smirk become wider as the piles on the carts got higher.

'You is being a disgraceful house elf, Poppin! I is knowing all about your heritage and there is being no excuses for this improper behaviour!' Kreacher scolded happily.

Harry was secretly glad that Hermione wouldn't be here until later. She might have interfered when she saw the elves scurry around at the harsh words. Poppin's eyes were suspiciously bright for a moment there, but all that was needed to bring a big smile back to the elf's face was a kind word from "Master Draco". And there were plenty of those to be had.

Nothing like hard work to make a merry band of house elves ecstatically happy, Harry mused. The eleven elves, Krinkey alone had elected to stay back at the Manor, laboured happily and got the harvesting done in no time at all. They were too busy to tug at their ears at Kreacher's shrill complaints and there were no walls to bang their heads against in self-punishment. So instead, they just got on with it.

'Yes, Kreacher was knowing that you could be doing this! You is being Malfoy elves and I is knowing your noble ancestors personally! You is making them be proud today!'

At the pleased compliments, the elves started to work even faster. Full carts were being floated to the chai where Flopsey had been assigned to oversee the cleaning and de-stemming process. They would leave the crushing and the rest of the wine making process to the Muggle workers that were coming in very early the next morning.

'I still don't understand why you're letting Muggles take over,' Draco complained. 'Wouldn't it be much quicker with the use of a little magic?'

'Well yes,' Harry acknowledged with a lazy smile. 'But you know, _quicker_ isn't always _better_.'

They exchanged a heated look, a look full of promise for later.

'Alright,' Draco conceded. 'Alright…'

* * *

 

'Salut!'

Twelve glasses were clinked in a cheery toast at the large oak table in the dining room. Harry felt a warm contentment settle in his stomach as he looked at his friends around him. Ron and Hermione were there of course, Hermione chatting with Luc and Alain, Ron having an earnest conversation about a pink Pygmy Puff with Rose and Hugo.

Harry was very pleased for Draco that Parkinson and Zabini had been able to come over from their estate in Italy. As much as Draco got on with Hermione and Luc these days, he clearly enjoyed the company of his old friends. Draco was involved in what looked like a playful argument with Zabini while Parkinson chatted with Stéphane and his wife.

Harry couldn't look away from Draco as he took a sip from the rosé crémant. He barely tasted the fine sample of last year's harvest, so occupied was he by the flush of Draco's cheeks, the easy smile on soft lips and the wicked twinkle in those silvery eyes.

'You've really got it badly, haven't you…'

The wry words startled Harry out of his Draco-induced trance.

'What?' he asked, looking at Ron with a puzzled expression.

'Malfoy,' Ron explained. 'You really like him don't you…'

Harry looked at his oldest friend for a long time, trying to assess the feelings behind the question. In the end, he shrugged and gave Ron the simple truth.

'Yeah. Yeah I do,' was all that Harry said.

'Thought so,' Ron confirmed. 'It's obvious really. And if it's that obvious to me, well, let's face it, than it must be bloody obvious mustn't it…'

'Language!' came Hermione's scolding words, accompanied by a scuff around the ears for a pink faced Ron.

She didn't even turn away from her conversation with Alain and Luc. Seriously, the woman had some sort of radar for bad language, especially when being used around her children. Although right now, little Hugo and Rose were almost sleeping in their seats and wouldn't have noticed a parade of hippogriffs parading around the house. Not surprising really, seeing as it was well past midnight and of course way past their usual bedtime.

Ron followed Harry's eyes and sighed.

'Come on you two,' he said gently, 'let's get you to bed'.

He scooped up first Rose and then Hugo, heaved them up high and carried them out.

'But I'm not tired Dad…' Rose tried.

She hadn't managed to finish the last word before breaking into a huge yawn. Hugo didn't even try. He simply rested his sleep flushed face against his father's broad shoulder and closed his eyes.

'Your children are lovely,' Harry told Hermione, watching Ron's back disappear. 'Thanks for bringing them along. It's a pleasure to have them here'.

Hermione smiled.

'I know,' she said. But then she hesitated before continuing: 'I do worry about them you know. I've been so busy lately with the election and those trials… And it's only going to get worse if I manage to actually win the election next week'.

Draco snorted.

'Leave it out Hermione. That election is in the bag and you know it,' Draco smirked.

'Exactly,' Harry agreed. 'And about little Rose and Hugo… Hermione, you are brilliant at everything you do and that includes being a Mum. Those children adore you and with good reason'.

'And besides,' Draco added, 'it's not as if you have to do this alone. Loathe though I am to admit it, they've got a decent enough father in Weasley'.

Both Harry and Hermione gaped at him.

'What?' Draco said defensively. 'I'm only saying…'

Hermione recovered first, closing her mouth and clearing her throat.

'Anyway,' she said, in a clear attempt to change the subject, 'Have you seen this morning's edition of The Oracle?'

Both Harry and Draco shook their heads.

'What was that Hermione?' Luc joined in. 'The Oracle? That's Rita Skeeter's publication isn't it?'

Hermione nodded.

'Let me guess,' Draco sighed, 'Another fabulous report on how Mss Walker was convicted by a unanimous vote of the Wizengamot to a sentence of… what was it? Ten years in Azkaban I believe?'

'No,' Hermione said. 'Or I mean yes about the ten years. But no, that wasn't what I was talking about'.

'I still say it's a pittance,' Draco grumbled.

Harry couldn't agree more. He placed a warm hand on Draco's thigh and pressed down soothingly.

'Ten years? Merde… That doesn't seem anywhere near enough for what they did. What they put Draco through…' Luc exclaimed. 'And what about the rest of them?'

Harry sighed and answered: 'About half that for the others. Except Alden. The minute Ron had her in custody, she started hinting at her "high connections" within the Ministry. I'm not sure what she told the Aurors in the end, but apparently it was enough to get Scrimgeour booted out of office. And enough for her to come off with no more than six months of Azkaban'.

'Ron says that isn't the end of it though. Apparently some evidence came up recently that indicates Miss Alden in numerous illegal activities,' Hermione said, looking pensive. 'He won't go into details, but I think Miss Alden might face a second trial before her six months are up'.

They were all quiet for a little while, each brooding on their own thoughts. Harry didn't like it. Tonight was supposed to be about celebrating and no way was he going to let that Bald Eagle Society lot spoil even a second more of their time. He wouldn't want to give them the satisfaction. So he attempted to change the subject.

'So what _were_ you talking about then? He asked Hermione. 'Earlier, when you asked us if we read the Oracle this morning?'

'This,' Hermione said, conjuring a folded copy from her purse. 'Remember how you allowed Skeeter to interview you both in exchange for all her help? Well, she published the story today. Or the first of the series I should say'.

The first thing Harry saw when the paper started unfolding itself were the huge black headlines screaming: "Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy; An Epic Love Story".

Harry and Draco groaned in unison.

'Let me see that,' Blaise said, quickly snatching the paper away from groping hands.

There was a short scuffle that Blaise won easily. All except Harry and Draco gathered around Blaise's chair as he cleared his throat and began to read the article aloud. Even Ron wandered back in, just in time to hear the whole thing.

' _Anyone with eyes has been able to see it for themselves: Harry Potter is in love! The Boy-who-lived is now the Man-who-loves… none other than Draco Malfoy…_

 _And who could blame him, my dearest readers? They make the most handsome couple and when they look at each other… Well, you can actually_ see _sparks fly!'_

Harry buried his head in his arms and tried to block everyone out. Tried, but failed. He could still hear Blaise's every word as he proclaimed them loudly. He also heard the shrieks of laughter from Parkinson and the snickers from Ron and Alain.

He heard words of how Draco was " _Devastatingly handsome with a hint of the Bad Boy about him_ " and how Harry apparently was " _A dark, casual beauty with an aura powerful enough to make every witch and gay wizard go weak at the knees_ ".

'Make it stop… Make it stop…' Harry pleaded uselessly as he thumped his head against the solid table repeatedly.

'Fucking Skeeter…' he heard Draco mumble miserably beside him.

He looked up and gave Draco a consoling smile as the words " _Almost palpable sexual tension_ " and " _Silver eyes that were positively swooning when they locked with brilliant green ones_ " were flying through the air.

'I should never have let you talk me into this,' Draco said accusingly.

'Me?' Harry cried out incredulously. ' _Come on Harry, what harm can it do?_ Those words ring a bell Draco? _She helped save my Mother Harry, surely we owe her a little something._ Yes? Any of this coming back to you at all?'

' _More about this startling tale of Love in next Saturday's issue. The next instalment will cover their heroic efforts in bringing down the wicked Bald Eagle Society. The Wizarding world has a duo of Heroes now, and don't they look the part?'_

'I don't know,' Luc pondered aloud. 'This picture sure is something, but I'm not sure I'd describe it as heroic exactly…'

'How about… Hot?' Parkinson offered.

'Oooh definitely!' Alain agreed.

'Intriguing? Captivating?' Hermione tried.

'Give me that!' Draco ordered, snatching the paper away from prying eyes to spread it out in front of Harry and himself.

They looked at it in silence. There were several smaller photographs, but the large one was obviously the one that had drawn all the comments.

Harry didn't know when it was taken, they certainly hadn't posed for this one. It looked too… private. Harry's cheeks flushed in embarrassment as he saw his photo-self smile at Draco in a way that he could only describe as… well… smitten. It was a close-up shot, with Draco looking somewhere behind the camera and Harry looking, no, _staring_ at Draco. _Like a lovesick puppy_ , Harry thought miserably.

But then, at the very end of the photo loop, photo-Draco turned his head and looked at Harry. There was a look of surprise and then his expression softened and he smiled. A smile that made something warm and wonderful unfurl in Harry's stomach. Carefully he smoothed down the black and white wizarding photo, silently vowing to keep it safe.

'Nice photo,' Draco commented.

'Mmm,' Harry agreed, looking at Draco with burning eyes.

Draco swallowed. They looked at each other without speaking for what could be seconds, minutes, hours…

'Er, hello? Remember us?' came Zabini's incredulous call.

'Not right now they don't,' Hermione replied for them.

 _Clever Hermione_ Harry thought, still not prepared to look away from Draco.

* * *

 

Harry looked at Draco as he writhed beneath him, beautiful, naked, wanting... Harry's hands traced every curve and angle of the blond's gorgeous body, touching, stroking, caressing…

His fingers traced a path from delicate collarbone, to flat chest and abdomen, down lean legs and then back up again. Draco gasped and arched himself up into Harry's hands like a kitten being stroked. The blond hair lay splayed like a golden curtain, framing Draco's striking features. Harry couldn't get enough of looking at the beautiful blond, lying there with lips slightly parted, his eyes dark and almost dangerous-looking with pupils blown wide.

'Beautiful,' Harry said absently as he raked his fingers through the silky smooth locks. 'Beautiful,' he repeated as his lips started following his hands, pressing tantalising kisses on Draco's nipples, jutting hipbones and the soft skin of his inner thighs.

Draco shivered and moaned softly, urging Harry on. Harry gripped the blond's hips firmly, almost bruising the pale skin. Draco didn't seem to mind. All he did was throw his head back, worry his bottom lip between his teeth and moan louder.

Harry's lips continued their path down Draco's chest, but were now joined by the occasional scrape of teeth, always followed by a soothing, almost apologetic lap of his tongue.

'Harry,' Draco breathed as Harry moved lower and lower. 'Please Harry… please…'

The last word ended in a sob as Harry finally gave in and enveloped Draco's straining erection in the warmth of his mouth.

'Yessss…' Draco hissed, bucking his hips up wildly in search of more, deeper, faster…

Harry tightened his grip and effectively pinned Draco's hips down while he used his tongue to drive the blond wild. He teased Draco with a darting tongue, alternating between languid laps and twirling licks from base to tip and back again.

Harry couldn't explain it, but he just needed to _touch_ Draco, _feel_ him. _All_ of him. Every single part. _Now_. With some regret he released Draco's cock from his mouth. It wasn't enough… Not enough… Hands, fingers, lips and tongue went exploring again. He lay down on his side and faced Draco, pulling the blond toward him.

 _Yes_ , Harry thought. More skin to trace now, he could stroke down Draco's back, following the path of his spine to the curve of his arse. _Soft, firm, delicious_ … Harry thought. He closed his eyes and inhaled Draco's scent, revelling in the feeling of closeness.

He smoothed his hands further down, along the back of Draco's legs, making him squirm slightly as he touched the sensitive skin behind the knees.

'What… What are you doing?' Draco whispered.

'Touching you,' Harry said, demonstrating the truth of this statement by gently caressing Draco's cheeks.

Draco raked his fingers through Harry's hair, making a delicious shiver ripple through Harry's body. Harry bent forward and buried his nose in the crook of Draco's neck.

'Smelling you,' he continued, inhaling Draco's scent deeply. Merlin he smelt good, Harry thought, leaning in to breathe the scent in.

He let himself fall backward and pulled the blond on top of him.

'Kissing you…' he finished, pressing his lips to Draco's, first softly, then growing more urgent. Draco opened his lips and Harry sighed blissfully as their tongues began a lazy duel.

After that, Harry was lost… Draco was everything, everything was Draco and Harry liked that just fine. Stroking hands, kissing lips, hips thrusting together… He didn't know where one began and the other ended. And he didn't care.

He cried Draco's name over and over as the blond eased his cock into Harry and started to move in, out, in out... Slowly, slowly, so very slowly…

'That… that what you want?' Draco panted, his body tensed with restraint.

'Yes,' Harry moaned. 'Or no… I mean yes… but… more, now, please, now, now…'

He looked up at Draco's flushed face and laughed as Draco relented and sped up. Draco promptly silenced the laughter by almost slamming his hips forward, pounding into Harry relentlessly until all he could do was babble incoherently.

Harry felt his heart speed up ever faster, heard it pounding in an almost deafening rhythm. He moaned unashamedly, his climax building to an impossible high, tossing his head from left to right. He raised his legs to wrap them tightly around Draco's hips and pushed himself up. He whimpered as the angle made it possible for Draco to slide even deeper, feeling so good, so incredibly good…

The smirk on Draco's face was what pushed Harry over the edge. Harry cried out and came, and came and came... He looked at Draco as if enthralled, seeing the smirk disappear and be replaced by an expression of almost awed pleasure. Harry couldn't stop looking, didn't want to.

Even half an hour later, with the lights dimmed and Draco fast asleep, Harry still couldn't take his eyes away for the beautiful man in his arms. _This is what I want_ , Harry thought with absolute certainty. _This. Exactly this._

'Will you _stop_ ,' Draco complained sleepily.

Harry startled.

'Stop what?' he asked in confusion.

'Stop looking at me,' Draco grumbled, opening half an eye.

Harry grinned.

'Never,' he vowed, grinning even wider.

Draco opened both eyes now and leaned back a bit to look at Harry quietly. After a while, he sighed heavily, closed his eyes again and snuggled even closer.

'Alright then,' Draco conceded, the corner of his mouth twitching suspiciously. Harry could see Draco try and fight it, but before long, that twitch curved into a full smile.

'Yes it is,' Harry agreed. He smiled, wrapped his arms tightly around the blond and pressed a tender kiss on smiling lips. _Yes it is_ , he thought again, _so very alright._


End file.
